All Along: Famine
by Aelimir
Summary: Sequel to All Along: Fortune. Despite his growing bond with Spock, Jim feels alone in life. The challenges he faces with his mother and Tarsus only seem to confirm this. Can Spock show him how wrong he is? The sequel, "Family," is now up!
1. Chapter 1

The Appeal

McCoy rang the doorbell to Spock and Jim's house, feeling anxious about the coming conversation. It seemed his life would never be dull now that Spock was in his life. The door opened immediately. It was the hobgoblin himself.

"Dr. McCoy," Spock stated, raising his eyebrow. He had not expected visitors today. "Come in."

"Spock," McCoy greeted, wringing his hands.

"Jim is in his room. Do you wish for him to be present?" Spock asked, wondering why McCoy had dropped in unannounced and hadn't simply called.

"Not yet," said McCoy seriously. "I think I should tell you first."

They both sat down in the living room, keeping their voices low. "Winona is making an appeal to have partial custody," McCoy announced without preamble.

"Did not the court already decide against it?" Though his posture was neutral, Spock's eyes were serious and concerned.

"They did," McCoy grumbled. "However, when they decided against her, Winona came forth with new testimony and evidence, and they are reconsidering." Hadn't taken long, either. The adoption had only been finalized a few weeks ago.

Something changed subtly in Spock's eyes. McCoy thought he recognized worry and some devastation.

"They won't give her back full custody, I am sure," said McCoy, trying to reassure him in some small way. "Still too much against her for that. But, I am one of the few with access to the appeal, and I have to say, it's not looking good. She might win partial custody."

"What do you suggest we do, doctor?"

"First of all, we have to break the news to Jim. What do you think? You've been living together for a few weeks now, you know him better than I do."

"He still shows signs of doubt that this situation is permanent," Spock admitted. "He has been having nightmares and continued uncertainty in my presence. I do not believe that this development will be beneficial to him, or his confidence. I am uncertain how to "soften the blow," as you say."

"I know," agreed McCoy. "Just keep telling him you'll be there for him. Make sure he knows she'll never have full custody."

Spock acknowledged him with a look. "Understood, doctor," he said gravely. "I will retrieve him now."

"Now?" said McCoy reluctantly.

"There is no logic in delaying," stated Spock.

McCoy, looking unhappy, nodded his assent. Spock got up and gently knocked on Jim's door. He was not surprised Jim had not come out yet. Jim had not been allowed to answer the door at his previous residence, or greet visitors until asked, and though he answered the door a few times here, old habits usually took over. "Jim," he said. "McCoy is here. We would like to talk to you."

The door opened within seconds. Jim took in Spock's expression. "What's wrong?" he asked anxiously.

"Nothing you have done," Spock assured him immediately. "However, it does concern you."

Jim followed him out to the living room and sat down next to him on the couch. McCoy was sitting in a chair. "Hi," he said to the doctor, the sick feeling in his stomach preventing him from being chatty.

"Hi, Jim. How have you been doing?" McCoy asked.

Jim wished he would just get to the point. He had a feeling it wasn't good, and the suspense was killing him. "Great! I love it here," he said.

McCoy smiled wanly. "Glad to hear it, kid. Listen, I'm afraid I've got some bad news."

Jim waited with a sinking feeling as McCoy struggled for the right words to say. Spock placed a hand on his shoulder, and their eyes met for a moment. Spock's eyes seemed to say, "I'm here for you." Jim, unable to hold that loving, loyal gaze, turned back to McCoy.

"Your mom is making an appeal," McCoy said, unable to find a way to ease into it and deciding to just spit it out. "She wants partial custody, and she might get it."

"She will not get full custody," Spock jumped in firmly. "You will not be taken from me. You will always be home here. She may not even succeed at all. We merely wish for you to be apprised of the situation."

Jim sat still for a moment, letting it sink in. He knew this life was too good to be true. He didn't think it would be okay as they were -

"Jim," Spock said, squeezing his shoulder, putting an arm around him. "Jim. I will not leave you, no matter what the court says. We do not know the extent of the custody she might gain. It could be weekends, or it could only be one weekend a month. It could be even less. She also is gone for long periods of time in her work for Starfleet. Much of the year, she won't be able to have custody. It is not as bad as you think, and it is illogical to speculate when we do not yet have all the facts."

Jim leaned into Spock, wanting to believe his words.

"Kid, if this ends unfavorably we'll come up with an appeal of our own. We'll battle it out," McCoy promised. "This ain't over yet!"

Jim nodded, unable to speak.

"I'll keep you two updated. Soon as I know anything, I'll let you know," McCoy assured them. "I've got to get back to my clinic. Let me know if you need anything."

"Live long and prosper, doctor," said Spock. "Feel free to use my transporter pad. It is still set to your coordinates."

"Bye," said Jim, realizing with regret that he had barely said a few words to him. The arm around him was distracting him from too much self-recrimination, though. It just felt so good. He wanted to savor it while he could. He felt himself being pulled closer to his adopted dad, a whispered "Jim," and a kiss to his temple. Jim's face flushed with pleasure, but he kept his eyes averted.

Jim and Spock stayed that way for a long time, thinking over their current situation. Spock revisited the most illogical fantasy of taking him away in his ship. Jim's thoughts, incidentally, were much the same, the light telepathic contact enhancing the harmony. Despite Jim's determination to stay awake, he eventually succumbed to slumber, Spock still keeping vigil. He decided there was no logic in moving, since he was comfortable where he was, so he eased into a light meditation to pass the night.

Jim woke groggily the next morning, momentarily confused by his surroundings before it all came rushing back to him and he realized what happened. Somewhat embarrassed, he froze in place as he tried to figure out if Spock was awake or not.

Spock could feel Jim's pleasure, embarrassment and uncertainty through the physical contact. His eyes softening, he thought on how to smooth things over for him. "I seemed to have inadvertently trapped you in my embrace for the night," commented Spock, his arm still around Jim. "I hope you were comfortable, at least."

"I'm fine," Jim insisted. "It's okay."

When Jim made no move to leave, Spock said, "It is time for you to get to school."

Jim got up. Spock put a hand on his shoulder, rising with him. "Jim. It will be all right."

Jim smiled wanly and nodded.

The ride to the school was quiet. Spock now drove him, instead of Jim taking the bus, their previous miscommunication now cleared up.

When Jim entered the school, he was surprised to see Mr. Kalomi pull him aside. When they were seated in his private office, he spoke. "Jim. As your school principal, I have been told about the appeal on your custody. I know you have to get to class, so I'll keep this short. I suggest you keep this to yourself and not talk about it where others might overhear or find out. I don't want to hear you've gotten in to fights over this, understand?"

Jim nodded, and Mr. Kalomi gestured for him to go. He hurried to class and made it just in time to get his usual seat next to Gary. He felt his friend's stare, and he knew he'd have to explain everything to him soon.

At lunch, before he could pull his friends aside, he saw a crowd of people gathered around a kid a few grades below him. He glanced at Gary. "That's Kevin, right? What's going on?"

"Yeah, Kevin Riley," agreed Gary. "I'm not sure what's going on, let's find out."

Ben caught up with them as they integrated themselves into the crowd. As they got closer, they could see that Kevin was very excited about something, and the other kids kept plying him with questions with some jealousy.

"Yeah, it's going to be awesome!" Kevin exclaimed, glowing. "We'll be leaving in a few weeks, at the end of the school year. If we all like it, we might just stay there!"

"Are you going on a starship?" asked one kid.

"No, that's for Starfleet personnel only. Family members get to go on their special cruise shuttles. I can't wait to be in space for the first time!"

It sounded like Kevin was going to live on another planet. No wonder he was so excited. Jim felt jealousy flare in him a little. "What planet?" he asked.

"Tarsus IV. It's a new colony they're building. My mom is in Starfleet, so they invited her and us to go."

"Cool," Jim responded. He, Gary, and Ben exchanged glances, then left to eat their lunch. Jim pulled them aside to a more private table, and brought them up to speed with what McCoy had told him the night before. He kept a sharp eye out for Finnegan and relayed to them what Mr. Kalomi had advised him. His friends offered to be with him if he had to spend time with Winona, if she let him have friends over. Jim felt better with his friend's support. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Though, maybe if he could convince Spock to take him to Tarsus IV, none of this would be an issue. Maybe that would make it too hard for Winona to be with him. Maybe that would work! Jim resolved to ask him when he got picked up.

When Jim saw Spock's hovercar pull up later, Jim ran eagerly towards it and climbed in. "Hi Dad!" he said cheerfully.

Spock's eyes softened. "Jim. I am glad to see that you are in good spirits."

"Yeah. Guess what! One of the kids from a lower grade, Kevin, is going to Tarsus IV! Isn't that wild?" Jim was about to plow into his idea when he took in the expression on Spock's face. "What?"

Spock looked grave and conflicted. "I am not impressed by Tarsus IV's reputation," he said finally.

"Oh," said Jim, disappointed. Looked like his idea wasn't going to fly. "Why?"

More silence. Just when Jim thought Spock wasn't going to answer, he said, "I have heard some unsettling things about the Governor, Kodos. I do not believe it wise to live under his jurisdiction."

"Oh," said Jim, deflated.

Spock, noticing this, tried to soften his statement. "I can understand your excitement at space travel. I do not wish to imply disapproval of Kevin's plan to colonize another planet. Merely of that particular planet." He paused. "This is Kevin Riley you speak of?"

"Yes. You know him?"

"I have spoken with his father a few times while waiting for you," Spock explained. "He did not mention anything about Tarsus IV to me."

"Oh," said Jim.

Spock decided to leave out the fact that while he had been talking to Kevin's father, he had overheard Leila Kalomi telling another girl that she thought he was cute. Apparently his great age had not diminished that in her eyes. He felt some small satisfaction that he still "had it going on" as Kirk Prime used to say. "I know you wish to go to another planet. However, doing so at this time is not the way we need to solve our current problems."

Spock knew him too well, Jim thought. As he always seemed to. As he thought about that, he wondered again about the things Spock was hiding. So much was going on, with him settling in and adjusting, and now the appeal, that he did not give it much thought. But, maybe he could now risk saying something. "Dad? Can you read minds?"

That earned him an amused look. "To a limited extent, I am a touch and proximity telepath. However, I usually shield so I am not affected by the emotions and vague impressions I receive. To read a mind, I need to meld with the person's psi points with my hands and have sufficient time to sift through to relevant data."

Still unsure of what Spock meant, he decided to press further. "So, what kind of things can you pick up from me without doing the meld thing?"

"I can pick up vague impressions of feelings and intent, but no specific details. For example, not the cause of the emotions. Jim, if you are not comfortable with this, I will attempt to shield better."

"No, it's okay," said Jim, satisfied for now. This somewhat explained some of Spock's unusual behavior. "You don't have to shield or whatever if you don't want to."

A glint of satisfaction gleamed in Spock's eyes. He had not wanted to shield from Jim, and now he did not have to.

"Have you mind melded with someone before?" asked Jim curiously.

"Yes. Many times, usually ordered by my former Captain. It is a useful talent, but one I use sparingly outside of my immediate relationships."

Jim wanted to ask about the former captain, but he remembered how upset Spock had gotten the last time they'd talked about it, so he decided to ask about something else and leave that for a better time. "What's it like? Would you - would you - ever...meld with me?"

"The experience varies from mind to mind. Some minds are unpleasant. Some are very fragmented and difficult to navigate through; others, more structured. Jim," he said, stopping the hovercar as they pulled into the garage. He turned toward him. "Jim. I will meld with you. However, I cannot do so at this time. Please understand. It is not that I do not want to. Nothing would please me more. However, there are some mental disciplines I must employ in order to ensure your safety, and I have fallen out of practice. I will let you know when I am ready." It wasn't a lie. If he was to successfully meld with Jim without giving too much away, he would need to apply some Kolinar disciplines. With McCoy, he did not need to be so disciplined, since he hid very little from him. This would require careful preparation.

"Okay," said Jim, as they climbed out.

"Please inform me if you need any help with your homework," Spock encouraged, as he always did.

"I will," Jim promised. He often took him up on it, not necessarily because he really needed it, but as an excuse to spend more time with his dad.

"I will be in the hanger repairing the Jellyfish." Spock turned and left, modified communicator in hand, to open the doors and begin his work.

Jim carried his small backpack to his room and tried to start on his homework. He'd been working extra hard in school since he started staying with Spock, to make him proud. But today, he could not summon the concentration for it. Once again, he wondered about Spock's secretive past. So far, he had not gleaned much of anything about it. Spock did not seem to be in any hurry to reveal it, and piecing together what he let slip here and there did not amount to much. Repeated galactic web searches had been futile, because all he ever got was things about a young Spock and not much information on his dad, certainly not stuff he didn't know already. His dad was not friends with anyone he knew that he could get the information from either, except maybe McCoy. In fact, he had tried to get McCoy to talk about it last week, but the doctor was frustratingly tight lipped, citing doctor/patient confidentiality.

"He has very excellent reasons for keeping it quiet," McCoy had assured him at Jim's mulish expression. "He'll tell you when the time is right. You've just got to trust him, and trust me."

So, the doctor was a no go. Jim felt a bit jealous that Spock would trust McCoy with his past, but not him. It made him feel like a stupid kid, and he didn't like it at all. He could handle it, and he wanted to prove it.

There really was only one way to find out. He would have to poke around Spock's things, then maybe he'd start piecing things together. He would have to be very careful though, since Spock had warned him he had many systems in place to protect against intruders, citing his Jellyfish project as his reason for extra precautions. Jim thought it was more than that, though.

The best place to start poking around seemed to be Spock's room. He glanced out the window in his room. If he squinted through the trees and bushes, he could see the hangar doors open. Spock was busy. This was his best chance.

Jim tiptoed to Spock's room and stopped outside the door. He rethought what he was doing. Was he betraying Spock's trust by doing this? He sure did not want to get caught. It would be terrible to disappoint him. But, what was he hiding?

Jim told himself a quick peek around couldn't hurt. He had, of course, been in there many times, but never without Spock. He crossed the threshold and entered.

The room was pretty bare, as he'd known already. The closet held only clothes. There was only the bed, and the nightstand with two drawers. The walls were completely bare except for the pendant. Jim headed for the drawers, opening them. The bottom held a phaser. This wasn't too surprising, since he had found phasers in random places around the house for a while. That kind of paranoia did not seem to fit in with Spock's calm, confident personality. There had to be some huge reason why he prepared himself like this. But what?

The top drawer held a few medicines to help Spock in his old age. Jim gave those a cursory glance. There was an extra communicator. He lifted it and found pictures underneath.

Jim thought it unusual that Spock would have paper pictures. He took a good look at them. One was am elderly human woman with an aged Vulcan male. Looking closely, he thought it could be Spock's parents. He could see the resemblance. But, maybe not. Wasn't he supposed to have been raised in an orphanage? Or was that not true? He shrugged and went to the next picture.

It was an older man in a Starfleet Captain uniform, but not of any design Jim recognized. He looked quite a bit like his deceased dad, George Kirk. In fact, the resemblance was quite startling. The man had his arm around a younger looking Spock, grinning broadly. Spock was also dressed up in a Starfleet uniform he did not recognize. Though he did not smile outright, the look in his eyes was pure bliss.

Jim flipped both pictures over, but there was nothing on it to give any clues as to who these people were. Judging by how worn the paper was, though, they had been handled many times. These people meant a lot to Spock. The Captain must be the Captain he spoke of when he had cried that one time. Perhaps he had died? Maybe that was why he had moved here to Iowa, to get away from memories that hurt him?

Jim put everything back, then looked at the one remaining thing in the room: the pendant that was really a data chip. What was on it? Jim listened hard, and checked out the window again to be sure Spock was occupied. Satisfied, he activated the chip. The Captain from the photo appeared and began to speak.

**"**Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you… " The man stopped and grinned. "I know I know, it's illogical to celebrate something you had nothing to do with, but I haven't had the chance to congratulate you on your appointment to the ambassadorship with me being away, so I thought I'd seize the occasion... Bravo, Spock — I know your first mission may take you away for awhile, so I'll be the first to wish you luck… and to say…" The captain paused for a moment, his emotions almost seeming to get the better of him. "I miss you, t'hy'la.. I suppose I'd always imagined us as we are… outgrowing Starfleet together. Watching life swing us into our Emeritus years… I look around at the new cadets now and can't help thinking… has it really been so long? Wasn't it only yesterday we stepped onto the Enterprise as boys? That I had to prove to the crew I deserved command… and their respect? I know what you'd say — 'It's their turn now, Jim…' And of course you're right… but it got me thinking: Who's to say we can't go one more round? By the last tally, only twenty five percent of the galaxy's been chartered… I'd call that negligent. Criminal even — an invitation. You once said being a starship captain was my first, best destiny… if that's true, then yours is to be by my side, t'hy'la, as you are when life isn't leading us separate ways. If there's any true logic to the universe… we'll end up on that bridge again someday. Admit it, Spock. For people like us, the journey itself… is home."


	2. Questions

A/N: Thank you to SpirkTrekker42, Lina03, and Guest for reviewing!

* * *

Questions

The message ended. Jim's mind buzzed. There was more inside the chip, but the rest was heavily password protected and he couldn't get through. He was okay with that though. He had a ton of stuff to sort through now. Feeling that he had pushed his luck enough for one day, he replaced the pendant on the wall and hurried back to his room.

There was no way he could concentrate now. It was obvious that man, who apparently was also named Jim, and Spock had been very close, and Jim was becoming more and more sure that the man was dead. He could have possibly died of old age, but maybe he didn't. Did the reason for all the phasers have something to do with that?

It was also obvious he had been in Starfleet, something Spock had been tight lipped about. Jim couldn't remember if he'd ever out right denied it, though. It seemed as though thinking of Starfleet pained Spock because of the Captain he had (probably) lost. Maybe that was why.

Also, what was the thing about Spock becoming an Ambassador? Jim thought that should have definitely showed up on a galactic web search. Why hadn't it? What was so secret about that? Had Spock been involved in some secret negotiations or something? But if Spock was such an important government agent, what was he doing here? Did he retire because of the Captain Jim's (probable) death?

The man had named a ship, Enterprise, and also had mentioned Spock's birthday. This made Jim realize that he didn't know what day Spock's birthday was. This was something he felt he could ask, and he made a mental note to do it. He could only assume that Enterprise he had mentioned was one of the older models. He had thought Archer had captained it, though. Maybe it was some secret ship the public didn't know about. After all, Spock's Ambassador missions had apparently been secret, why not the ship too?

Also, what was that word, t'hy'la? Some Vulcan word for friend? Jim resolved to find out. It probably would come up on a galactic web search.

The knowledge of all this about Spock made him feel small and insignificant. Who was he, compared to Spock? Spock had been on a command team on a secret ship, exploring the galaxy, and entrusted with top secret, important Ambassador work to alien planets. Jim, meanwhile, had never even left Iowa in his life before Spock came along and was just a farm kid in the middle of nowhere. Spock was a scientific, technological, engineering, and pretty much everything genius, while Jim was just completing fifth grade. What did he have to offer Spock? Clearly Spock seemed to think he had something to offer, but Jim was still flummoxed as to exactly what. If Spock was looking for companionship, surely he could find some Vulcan genius to keep him company? Would he ever have anything approaching the relationship with Spock that the captain did?

Jim certainly wasn't complaining though. Determined to make something of himself, he willed his thoughts to still so he could finish his homework. This he could do. He would make himself be the best student in school. That would at least be something. Any more researching on Spock could wait.

Spock called him to dinner a few hours later and they ate mostly in silence. Spock had explained that it was a Vulcan tradition to eat in complete silence, but he could speak if he wished. Jim was more silent than usual tonight, observing Spock and trying to be subtle about it. Right now he mainly felt bad for Spock and his loss of that man. Clearly he had meant a lot to Spock. Now that he was looking for it, he could see the lines of grief in his face and stance.

"Something on your mind, Jim?" Spock asked. Jim's mannerisms were consistent with when he wished to ask him something but didn't know how to approach him. He was very reminiscent of Kirk Prime in this moment.

"I was thinking...when is your birthday?" Jim asked.

Spock raised an eyebrow. He had not thought it was something so simple and innocuous as that. However, this Jim was much more insecure than Kirk Prime ever was. It was possible that was all he really wanted to ask. "My birthday roughly coincides with the 26th of March on your calendar," Spock explained.

"Oh," Jim said, a bit disappointed that it was so far away. "Happy Belated Birthday, then." He smiled. "Even if it is illogical." Jim's smile broadened as Spock's eyes lit up.

"It is illogical to celebrate something I had nothing to do with," he agreed, a smile threatening to break out on his face. "However, your well wishes are appreciated."

They finished their meal in comfortable silence. Jim had just returned to his

room when the doorbell rang. Spock got up and opened the door, hoping the person on the other side had more pleasant news than the last visitor brought.

It turned out, the person herself was the bad news. It was Winona Kirk, apparently here to take advantage of her visiting rights. Spock cursed inwardly at her timing. He'd hoped that Jim would have more time to adjust to the news of the appeal before she showed up again, but it appeared that was not to be. "Mrs. Kirk," Spock stated emotionlessly.

"I'm here to see Jim," she said unnecessarily and a bit rudely. She still had the strange behavior of not acknowledging Spock's existence unless she had no other choice, as she did now.

Fortunately his years as a diplomat made dealing with this situation easier. "I will fetch him. Please make yourself comfortable." He allowed her inside reluctantly. The alternative was to send Jim to Winona's house, which he did not wish to do.

After sending Jim out to visit Winona in the living room, Spock went to meditate in his room. He did not like this feeling of 'throwing him to the wolves', however, he had found that his presence only aggravated the situation between Jim and Winona, so he kept out of it. His Vulcan hearing would alert him if anything of concern were to happen.

Winona sat on the couch, so Jim took the chair, trying to keep as much space between them as possible.

"Hello Jim," she said.

"Hi," Jim said awkwardly. It was rare that he'd ever had a real conversation with his mom that didn't involve her ordering him around.

"Did you have a good day at school?"

"Yeah." Then, for lack of anything else to say, he told her about Riley, and how he was going to Tarsus IV.

"I've heard of that project," she said. "Would you like to go, Jimmy?"

Jim wasn't sure what to say. The honest answer was yes, but Spock didn't seem to think it was so good. Since Spock had apparently been some sort of secret agent, he probably had access to lots of information that most people didn't and knew stuff the general public did not. So Jim settled for, "I think it would be fun to help colonize a new planet."

"Well, maybe we can! Starfleet has programs - "

"Mom," Jim interjected firmly. "I'm not going to another planet with you."

"Don't be silly. How else do you think you'll end up going?"

She did have a point. Spock sure did not seem inclined to go star hopping anytime in the near future, due to grief, Jim thought. "I'm staying with Spock," Jim replied firmly.

She did not seem fazed by this. "We'll see."

Jim gave her a stony glare.

After about fifteen more tortuous minutes of stilted, awkward conversation, Winona finally took her leave. Feeling drained, Jim went to Spock's room to let him know she had departed, and also to tell him goodnight.

After Spock gave him his usual hug, and kiss to the temple, Jim felt better and less unsettled by his mom's disturbing behavior. Spock gave him a final squeeze, Jim hugging back and giving a small smile, before leaving and climbing into bed. When he slept alone these days he usually had nightmares. He sure hoped tonight would be an exception. He closed his eyes.

Jim found himself in a strange room. He had a vague feeling that he shouldn't be here. He should be at home, with Spock. He started walking around the house, and it just seemed to get bigger and bigger and emptier and emptier the more he looked. Starting to feel frantic, he finally found the door to the outside and stepped out.

But the sky was the wrong color. He wasn't even on Earth anymore! He started to search around for someone, anyone, or a comm, but there was nothing. He looked back, but he could not find the house. He was lost, and alone. Panic welled up in him. What would he do now? He was abandoned, forever, helpless...

Abruptly Jim shot up in bed, panicked and breathing hard. It dimly registered in his brain that he'd been dreaming, but the fear was real and overwhelming. He shot out of bed and headed for the living room. Spock, he learned, did not sleep much, so he expected him to be there, meditating as usual.

He was. Jim relaxed marginally at the serene figure sitting on the meditation mat. His new dad opened his eyes as he approached. As the blind urgency of his panic wore off, Jim grew more hesitant and a bit embarrassed.

Spock interrupted his thoughts. "You had a nightmare," he stated calmly with a hint of empathy.

"Yes," Jim admitted, stopping a few feet away from him and sitting down. His breathing was slowing down to normal now.

Spock regarded him thoughtfully. "It is understandable. You are experiencing some major changes in your life." He paused a second, considering, then said, "You fear being alone. Logic informs me that recent events have done nothing to ease that fear."

Jim's gaze sank to the carpet, reliving the dream, and he nodded, withdrawing into himself slightly.

"I am due for some sleep. I do not want you to feel alone." Spock stood. "Come with me."

Jim followed Spock into his bedroom. Spock climbed into the far side of his queen size bed, saying, "Make yourself comfortable, Jim."

Jim stood a moment, unsure. Someone his age should not be sleeping with his parents anymore! Yet, the idea of being alone again was scary and the caring affection and consideration Spock was showing with this gesture was compelling and irresistible. Quite frankly, (pun intended) he could not remember ever being offered this.

Jim climbed in and snuggled up to Spock as close as he dared. In the privacy of his own mind, he allowed himself to savor the moment. Just being with Spock was reassuring. He didn't think he'd have any nightmares now. He'd never admit it, but he loved snuggling. Spock liked hugs, so maybe he liked this too? He sure hoped so. He hadn't seemed to mind the night before, when they accidentally fell asleep on the couch.

When Jim woke up the next morning, he found that he'd migrated a bit in his sleep. He was now snuggled into Spock's chest, and one of Spock's arms was loosely draped over him. Jim did not move, despite his embarrassment returning. He would stay until Spock decided to get up. He felt quite comfortable.

Spock, meanwhile, was awake and perfectly aware that his young charge was too. Through their touch, he could discern vaguely some of Jim's contentment. There was no logical reason to move at the moment. He could give Jim more time.

However, it was not meant to be. After a few more minutes of bliss, his comm buzzed. Very few people had his comm number, so it must be important. He gently lifted Jim off himself and onto the bed, allowing Jim to think he still believed he was asleep. There was no logic in making him uncomfortable. Then, he grabbed the device and went to a storage room to talk.

Jim lay in the bed for a few more minutes, reluctant to get up. He had no real reason to, since it was the weekend. But he got up and started brushing his teeth before Spock finished with his call.

"That was McCoy," Spock informed Jim when he came out to eat breakfast. "He told me that the appeal is to take place next week."

Jim nodded, a bit of his blissful mood disappearing.

"We are not to attend," Spock stated. "It will be my lawyer, McCoy, Winona, Winona's doctor and lawyer, and the judge. They wished it to be as private as possible due to the matters being discussed. I am not privy to them."

"Does that mean it will be decided next week?" Jim asked.

"It may. However, I have found that legal battles can have many twists and turns, so do not 'bet on it.' "

They were silent for a few minutes before Spock spoke again. "My weekend is free. Is there anything you wish to do?"

Jim shrugged shyly. He could think of lots of things, but he found he could not get the words out.

"Have you ever been riding, Jim?" asked Spock.

"You mean, horseback riding?" Jim wondered, perking up.

"Yes, that is what I mean," clarified Spock.

"No, I haven't, but... I would like to," Jim admitted.

"Then, if you would like, we can do that today." Spock's eyes glimmered with pleasure as Jim's entire countenance lit up with joy. It seemed this would sufficiently distract Jim from the matters at hand and would be well worth his own discomfort with riding.

After making the arrangements with a local dude ranch, Spock took Jim to a local tack shop so he could buy the proper riding clothes and boots. Jim almost seemed to forget Spock was there as he roamed the store, taking everything in. It was obvious he had never been given the chance before, and Spock was more than happy to amuse himself with the ads and notices on the bulletin board while Jim made his choices.

In the end, Jim got jeans, western boots, western chaps, and, at Spock's insistence, a helmet. Jim cringed when he heard the total, but Spock waved it off. This was pennies compared to the other things Spock could afford, and when they left the store, Spock told him so. Jim still looked doubtful, but accepted his things and thanked him with a shy smile.

After Jim got changed, they headed out to the dude ranch. Jim could hardly keep still, he was so excited. By the time they got out of the car, he was practically vibrating. Spock had to employ a few Kolinar disciplines to keep from smiling, the urge was so strong.

Tied outside the barn, there were three horses saddled and waiting. A beautiful, long legged black one with a star and snip was closest to them. The next one was a black and white painted horse, who was probably more of a large pony because of his smaller size. The third was a chestnut bay with one white sock. Jim recognized the dished face, which meant he had to be at least part Arabian.

A lady walked out of the barn when she saw them. "Hi, my name's Jennifer," she said, reaching out to shake Spock's hand. She stopped when she saw Spock's ears. "Oh, she said, staring in shock for a moment, dropping her hand. "Sorry." She did a hilarious attempt at the ta'al, and Spock had to make further use of his Kolinar disciplines as he returned the gesture. "I am Spock, and this is Jim."

After a rather obvious check on Jim's ears, Jennifer shook his hand, a bit flustered. "Nice to meet you, Jim," she said.

"Nice to meet you," Jim returned politely.

"Let me introduce you to the horses you will be riding. I picked Beacon here for you Spock. He's a Tennessee Walking Horse, so his gaits will be much more comfortable and easier for you to ride. This horse for you, Jim, is Cricket. We're not sure what breed he is, but he takes great care of kids. My horse is Cheyenne, a National Show Horse, which is half Saddlebred, half Arab."

Spock stroked Beacon's neck, a somewhat doubtful expression on his face. He had never ridden a gaited horse before, and he sure hoped it was as much as an improvement as Jennifer seemed to think.

Jim approached Cricket in awe. The only time he'd ever been around a horse was when he went to the fair once when he was really young, and he barely remembered it. The pony stood there, his eyes half closed, not in the least bothered by Jim's thorough petting.

Jennifer, seeing this, gave him a few minutes to explore and bond with his horse. She thought it was real cute, and she was happy to see that he didn't treat the horse like a motorcycle, which many kids tended to do.

Another thing that was cute was the Vulcan. She certainly had not guessed he was Vulcan on the comm. It had never crossed her mind. Vulcans tended to be found more in the big cities, not in rural areas like this. It was obvious that Spock was not particularly thrilled about riding, but was doing so on behalf of Jim, who he had called his son. She could only assume Jim was an adopted son, since there was little resemblance between the two. Jim obviously had no Vulcan traits. She had not known Vulcans were so sweet. He wasn't bad looking for his age, either. Jennifer was no spring chicken herself, and she wondered if he was taken.

Deciding it was time to start, she approached Jim first. "Are you ready?" she asked.

He smiled and nodded eagerly.

"Okay, on the count of three I'll boost you up!" Nothing could eclipse Jim's smile as he settled on top his pony. Once she made sure Jim was set, she turned to the Vulcan.

"Do I need to boost you up too?" she asked flirtatiously.

Spock raised his eyebrows slightly. Apparently this woman thought he 'had it going on' too, if he understood human behavior correctly. "I will manage fine on my own. However, if I do need that, I will let you know." He hoped that was the correct response.

She smiled and waited while he got on. She untied both of them and got on Cheyenne. "Okay, follow me! Try to keep the horses at least a horse length apart, unless you ride side by side."

Jim opted to ride side by side with Spock as best he could. Sometimes Cricket had to trot to keep up with Beacon's long legged stride. Spock could appreciate how Beacon's gait was indeed an improvement over his past experiences.

Jennifer regaled them with stories about their horses throughout the two hour trail ride. She was very curious about how those two ended up together but did not ask. It wasn't any of her business.

Jim enjoyed every moment. It was just as fun and wonderful as he'd always imagined. He was way too preoccupied to notice the kinds of looks Jennifer was giving Spock, though he did wonder about more of her flirtatious comments. Did she like his dad? He wasn't sure how he felt about that. He liked having Spock all to himself. He didn't think he had anything to worry about, though, because although Spock responded kindly to her, he didn't think he was taking it very seriously.

The ride ended way too soon as far as Jim was concerned. He reluctantly let Spock help him down. At Jim's disappointed expression, Spock told him, "Jim. We can come back soon, if you wish."

Jim brightened a little and nodded. Jennifer watched the exchange with a big smile. Boy, would she ever have a cute story to tell her friends now! It sounded like she would get to see Mr. Vulcan Sexypants again soon too. She couldn't think of a better way to spend an afternoon, with her horses, good weather, and a hot guy being cute with his son.

Spock listened to Jim chatter excitedly about the ride the whole way home. Spock admitted to himself that it hadn't been that bad this time. Riding that unicorn hadn't been the best first experience, and it seemed that gait made all the difference. Perhaps later, when things were more settled, he could take Jim riding at his uncle's.

When they arrived back in the garage, Spock turned to Jim. "I will make you a deal," he said. "If you shower and change, I will take you out to eat wherever you like."

"Really?"

Spock raised his eyebrow comically. "Really."

"It's a deal!" Jim shot out of the car to the bathroom.

Spock decided to go a round in the sonics himself. As he did, he mused that Jennifer probably wouldn't have minded joining him. He felt satisfaction at more evidence that his age hadn't diminished his attractiveness any. Perhaps if Jim Prime was still here, he would agree. However, that was not important, or logical to dwell on right now. He could not drag her into his current situation, even if he wanted to. It was too dangerous and complicated.

Jim was ready in record time and impatiently shifted from foot to foot as he waited for Spock. His dad came out a few minutes later, looking calm and presentable as usual.

"Jim, would you like to invite someone to come with us? Dr. McCoy, perhaps, or your friends from school?"

Jim thought about it for a minute, torn. He loved having his dad all to himself, but he also loved his new privileges of being able to invite friends to do things with him. "How about Dr. McCoy?" he asked finally. He thought Spock would have more fun if Dr. McCoy was there, and Jim liked him too.

Besides, the only time Spock seemed to really let anything slip was when the doctor around. Maybe he'd find out more about Spock's past. Maybe then he would understand what connected them, more than the words on the adoption paper. Maybe then, he wouldn't feel so alone, if he could just figure this out.


	3. McCoy

A/N: Muchos gratias to Cold Colors, flamenin, and AnnAisu for reviewing!

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McCoy

Spock contacted the doctor and beamed him over with his personal transporter. Dr. McCoy looked a bit disgruntled and unsettled as he materialized. He still didn't trust the things, but Spock knew these things better than anyone alive right now, so he supposed that was a small comfort.

"Spock, Jim," he greeted, doing a double take when he saw Jim. "You look happy." His voice was mixed with suspicion, amusement and pleasure.

"Spock took me horseback riding his morning!" Jim announced happily.

"I see," said McCoy, shooting Spock a 'you're spoiling him again' look. "Good for you, kid." He paused. "Why don't you get in the car while I have a short chat with Spock?"

Jim nodded and left reluctantly, wishing there was some way he could eavesdrop. He knew Spock would catch him at it though. His dad had the ears of a fox.

"Horseback riding, huh?" McCoy said after Jim was gone. "Something your old buddy was into?"

"Yes," Spock admitted. "It was one of his favorite shore leave activities."

"I see," commented McCoy. "So, are we going to go to his favorite restaurant too?"

"I do not know what his favorite Riverside restaurant was. By the time we started spending our shore leaves together, he rarely visited Iowa. I only accompanied him once on a trip of short duration. I believe that after his parents died, he no longer wished to be there."

McCoy nodded, then looked nervous. Spock raised an eyebrow as he waited. "Hey Spock...know any reasons I shouldn't propose to Jocelyn?" McCoy asked.

Spock knew what he was really asking. 'In your universe, did it work out between me and Jocelyn?' Spock knew they had ended up divorced with a daughter. He recalled how much anger McCoy had directed towards his ex-wife for a significant amount of time. Yet, he had also loved his daughter very much. Spock believed he thought she was worth everything he'd gone through to have her. "I believe that you will ultimately find, that the benefits of proceeding will outweigh the drawbacks, however large those might be."

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked McCoy irritably.

Spock hesitated, then said, "It means I believe that you'll find any unfortunate events you may endure in the process to be worth the experience."

"I see," said McCoy thoughtfully. "I could use a little more insight about the bad parts you think will happen, you know."

"That would not be wise. I assure you, I believe you will pull through unharmed and ultimately wiser for the experience. I would not deprive you of it."

McCoy looked like he wanted to argue, so Spock cut him off. "Jim is waiting. We should go."

McCoy gave him a grumpy look but followed him out to the hovercar.

The drive to the restaurant was filled mostly with Jim telling McCoy all about the ride. "I think the trail boss liked Spock too," said Jim mischievously.

McCoy looked doubtful at this. "You sure, kid?"

"Yeah! She kept making these comments that sounded like she was flirting with him."

"So, what do you think, Spock? You and her?" McCoy asked with a grin.

Spock gave them a patient look. "I do not believe romantic entanglements are wise at this juncture."

"C'mon, have a little fun," said McCoy, teasing.

Spock merely raised an eyebrow.

McCoy, understanding what Spock's reasons probably were, decided to change the subject. Before he could, though, an attractive young waitress came to take their order. McCoy did little to hide his disgust when she flirted with Spock too.

"You chick magnet," grumbled McCoy after she left. "She barely looked at me!"

Spock raised an eyebrow in response. "You are thinking about proposing to your girlfriend. It would be illogical to be concerned about your attractiveness to other females."

"She doesn't know that I'm thinking about that. It hurts my masculine pride to see her have a choice between me and an old fart and she picks the old fart to flirt with!"

"You're thinking about marrying Jocelyn?" Jim cut in, somewhat amused but not wanting to hear them argue.

"Yeah," McCoy admitted gruffly. "Thinkin' about it."

Jim, not knowing what to say, fell silent. After a few minutes, he excused himself to go to the bathroom.

Spock thoughtfully watched him leave, then turned to McCoy. "As you know, I am inexperienced in the realm of parenthood," he began. "I know nightmares are fairly common in adolescents. Jim is no exception. However, I am unsure of how to help him, or if I am taking appropriate measures to deal with the situation."

"Are you familiar with the four R's? Reassure, Re-script, Rehearse, and Resolution?"

"I am not familiar with this particular earth idiom," admitted Spock.

"Reassure is pretty self-explanatory. Hugging, holding, listening. That sort of thing. Re-script is where you rewrite the nightmare for the better. For example, if someone was hitting him, you would decide that the abuser would be stunned and handcuffed before he could do that the next time. Rehearse is where you tell him, and have him say, what you've re-scripted, over and over until it really sinks in. Resolution is obviously when he stops having the nightmares."

"So far I have offered him reassurance and understanding, but no alternative courses of action to enact in his dreams. I did not realize that humans had that sort of control."

"We don't have the Vulcan control that you're referring to, but often when you re-script and rehearse, it will carry into the actual nightmare on its own. Why are you asking? Has he still been having them a lot?"

"He has them every time I am not present in the room with him," informed Spock. "They show no signs of abating."

"Spock, I wouldn't worry about it at this point. He's had some major changes in his life lately, and it's all still very uncertain for him. I would not expect them to start easing until at least a couple weeks after a decision is reached with Winona's appeal. That is, if nothing else major comes up in his life." McCoy stopped, seeing Jim on his way back. "Just keep doing what you're doing, and think about the four R's. You're doing fine."

Their food was delivered after that, and McCoy looked grumpy as the waitress again flirted with Spock, while barely giving the doctor a second glance. Jim fought back an amused smile. McCoy, noticing this, said, "Shut it, kid," when it was the three of them again.

This made it all the harder not to laugh, so McCoy grumpily relented, "Fine, go ahead."

Jim laughed a little, before it fell silent again for a few minutes.

"So, what are your plans for the rest of the weekend?" McCoy inquired. "I'll be taking it easy. Between court cases, the clinic, and Jocelyn, I've been swamped."

"I appreciate your efforts on our behalf, doctor," said Spock.

"Don't mention it," said McCoy firmly.

Spock raised his eyebrow. Though he understood the meaning, that particular earth idiom was one of the more illogical ones. "As for Jim and my activities, that is not something we have discussed." He turned toward Jim. "What do you think?"

Jim still wasn't used to being allowed so much input, and he had been allowed so much already. Even though he was beginning to see Spock did not feel that way, he felt like he had overstepped and needed to start retreating. "I - I don't know," he said uncertainly.

Spock regarded him with kind eyes. "Perhaps when we go home, we can play chess. Tomorrow, we can invite your friends over, or, if you prefer, you can go to one of their houses. How does that sound?"

"Okay," said Jim with a small smile.

McCoy looked torn between smiling at the cute moment and being nauseated by it. "What are you doing tomorrow, then, Spock? Are you going to dote on him the whole time?"

"If Jim does not need me, I will work on the Jellyfish," decided Spock. "There are some repairs and adjustments I would like to make, especially to the sensors."

"Not particularly concerned with the firing power, are you, Spock?" observed McCoy, amused.

"Not particularly, no," Spock admitted with some irony. "What I have is more than sufficient."

Jim made no comment and was quiet for the rest of the meal, listening contentedly to Spock and McCoy as they discussed and bickered good-naturedly about random things. He could certainly get used to this.

When they paid, Spock left a generous tip.

"You liked her too, didn't you," McCoy ribbed him. "You liked it!"

Spock raised an eyebrow innocently and made no comment. Jim and McCoy exchanged grins.

When McCoy was safely transported back to Georgia, Jim and Spock sat down to play chess as planned. Jim was still quiet, feeling shy and a little overwhelmed by all the attention he was getting from his dad. Spock did not push him, merely settling for instructing him on his chess techniques.

When it came time for bed, Spock hesitated, wondering if he should offer to keep Jim company. He did not enjoy the fact that Jim was plagued with nightmares and wished he could do more. But, he knew how independent Jim could be by nature, so he decided he did not want to infringe upon that. He settled for his usual hug and kiss to Jim's temple, which Jim accepted with his usual endearing, shy pleasure.

Instead of sleeping, Spock decided to meditate so he could be readily available and approachable should he be needed. About halfway through the night, his sensitive hearing picked up sounds of distress from Jim's room. However, he did not come out as he usually did. Puzzled and concerned, he approached Jim's room and entered, laying a hand on his young charge's shoulder. "Jim, are you all right?"

"I'm okay. It was just another nightmare," was the response. It was obvious to the Vulcan that Jim was very distressed and doing his best to hide it. He shifted so they had some skin contact, using his telepathy to try to discern what was going on. He picked up tension, fear, uncertainty, guilt, frustration, embarrassment and even some dread, strongly connected to Spock himself.

He sat down on the bed. He did not know the causes of any of these emotions, only that they had something do to with him. "Jim, you have nothing to fear from me. What was the nightmare about?"

Jim grew tenser still and said nothing.

Spock frowned slightly, puzzled. He had never met this much reticence before, and he could not imagine why, unless... "Jim, I am aware that you went 'poking around my room' a few days ago. If that is what you dreamed about, you do not need to fear telling me about it."

That earned him a shocked look. Jim just stared.

Spock stayed silent for a minute, gathering his thoughts. He knew that Jim would go looking for answers, and he did not want to lie to him, so he had decided to leave Kirk Prime's message unencrypted so Jim could view it and come to his own conclusions. It was a risk, but he estimated that the chances of Jim guessing the truth were 0.4739%, and that was taking into account Jim's penchant for beating the odds. "The viewing history showed that you had seen it. Even if that didn't inform me, my eidetic memory would have made me see the things that were slightly different than I left them." He put a bit of warning into his voice. "I suggest that you do not do that again. If you do, I will know." He did not want Jim to learn that he was from an alternate reality. It was important for Jim to feel he was being loved for who he was, and not who he looked like. Otherwise, the results might be devastating. In addition, revealing too much would be against the Prime Directive.

Jim was shaking visibly now, his eyes averted.

"Tell me what the nightmare was about," Spock coaxed. Perhaps if he knew the content, he could start McCoy's strategy of the four R's. No amount of encouragement, however, could get Jim to speak. He seemed lost and afraid in his own little world. Judging by his tension and shaking, he seemed convinced Spock would attack him at any moment.

Spock was torn. The last thing he wanted was to leave Jim alone when he was so obviously distressed. However, he was coming to the conclusion that his presence was only aggravating the situation. "Jim, it does not matter what you have done. I would never hurt you. You must know this."

Jim, however, did not seem to hear him. Spock wondered if he should call Dr. McCoy. Even after dealing with humans all his life, this was out of his depth. He did not know how to help Jim.

In the end, he pressed his fingertips to Jim's psi points (Jim flinched but otherwise did not react) and sent him a powerful sleep suggestion. Jim collapsed immediately into a deep sleep. Spock thought it was possible he would sleep 'whatever that was' off. If not, he would see what he could do, and call McCoy if necessary.

He reluctantly left Jim alone in his room. It was unlikely he would dream anymore tonight. He climbed into his bed and got some sleep himself.

When Spock called Jim to breakfast the next morning, he wasn't sure that Jim would actually come out. In the end, he did, acting very subdued and still shaking a bit. When Spock tried to make casual conversation, he only got one word answers, and Jim barely met his eyes before flicking them downwards in a submissive position.

Taking matters into his own hands, he contacted Ben and Gary's parents, arranging for them to spend the day together at Gary's house. The ride there was silent and tense, Jim barely saying goodbye before joining his friends. Spock was relieved to see him perk up a bit as he greeted them.

Spock left shortly and immediately called McCoy upon returning home, using both video and audio channels.

"What is it this time?" asked McCoy, a bit grumpy that his badly needed rest day was interrupted.

"Jim is afraid of me," said Spock.

"Look, Spock, we've been over this. He isn't afraid of you, he's uncertain about how to behave around you. You're like nothing he has ever known. He's bound to act fidgety sometimes."

"This is more than that, doctor," stated Spock with urgency. He explained the events of the past several hours, since Jim had clammed up on him.

All traces of irritation gone, McCoy's voice was now sympathetic. "Well, his emotional scars from being physically abused aren't going to disappear overnight. This is the first time he's really committed a transgression against you, isn't it?"

"That is correct," Spock confirmed.

"He's waiting for 'the other shoe to drop,' Spock. He can't fathom that you are anything but angry, and a parent being angry, to him, means he'll get beaten. It isn't that he doesn't trust you, exactly, it's more that he cannot fathom life being any other way. I don't think he expected to get caught. Frank didn't strike me as a particularly intelligent fellow, and with him he could have gotten away with a lot worse than that, and not be discovered. But with you, you don't miss a thing. To him that means it's all the more likely you'll get angry and punish him at the drop of a hat."

"I would not. He must know that."

"He's not thinking rationally right now," McCoy pointed out.

"What do you suggest I do? He will not talk to me. He flinches from me and acts like I will strike him when I try to offer reassurance."

"I'm not a child psychologist, Spock, so I can only offer you my gut instinct. I think you should give him what he's expecting." At Spock's subtly furious expression, McCoy immediately clarified. "What I mean is, you should give him a punishment, but it doesn't have to be anything big. Confine him to his room for a time without his favorite things, or something like that. Until he sees for himself that you never get angry, he will never believe that you aren't. That will take time. To relieve his anxiety and discomfort, you've got to give him familiar treatment, but it doesn't have to be cruel."

"Indeed doctor, I see the logic of your conclusions. I will give him a small punishment when he comes home, as you suggest." Spock hoped that it would work, and that it would makes things normal again between them, as little as he liked the solution.

The Vulcan spent the rest of the afternoon working on the Jellyfish, the familiar work settling his mind and emotions, which had very much been stirred up by the current situation. He decided he would go with confining Jim to his room and forbidding him to do anything but homework for the rest of the evening. Spock felt like he was being punished as much as Jim. He would much prefer to spend the time playing chess with Jim, but it was not to be.

At the appointed time, Spock returned to Gary's house to take Jim home. From a distance, he was pleased to see that Jim looked more relaxed. He frowned when Jim grew tense when he caught sight of the hovercar. He said his goodbyes to his friends, then climbed into the car with Spock with a quiet 'hello.'

Spock's years of diplomacy failed him at the thought of what he was about to do, so his words came out unfortunately blunt. "I have given thought to your...investigations as of a few days ago, and I have decided it merits a small punishment." Spock steeled himself. It had better work, or he would have a few choice words with McCoy. "You will be confined to your room for the rest of the evening. You will do nothing but homework. I will know if you do." He looked at Jim, who was now as still as a stone, white as a sheet. "Do you understand?"

"Yeah," said Jim in a small, scared voice. "I won't do it again."

"Indeed," said Spock. Nothing more was said. When they arrived home, Jim immediately went to his room and finished his homework. Not a sound came from his room. Spock knew Jim was being completely obedient. He did not enjoy one minute of it. Kirk Prime would have reacted totally different to this entire situation. He hoped he could help this Jim find that confident, assertive, inquisitive personality.

There was no point in debate. Kaiidth. His time would be much better served running maintenance on his computer. Spock ran his usual maintenance checks and ridding the computer of extraneous data. He paused as he encountered his own name in the internet search history.

Fascinating. Spock had not given much thought to his younger self lately. Jim, no doubt, thought their similarities to be mere coincidence; and indeed, the message he uncovered seemed to point to this fact. It seemed he and Jim were drawn to each other, no matter what the universe.

He had already met his alternate self. It had been a fascinating experience. While he'd met many doppelgangers of Jim, this was the first he'd met of himself. It was not a visit of curiosity, however, but of necessity. He warned his family of Nero and the possible dangers as soon as he came out of the black hole. It had taken a mind meld to convince Sarek, but now he could rest at ease, knowing they were prepared. In return, Sarek had given him money and contacts to get him set up on Earth so he could watch over Jim.

He could only hope his interference in Jim's life had not caused too much damage. Nero's emergence had deprived him of his father. Perhaps his presence was reversing the damage. In a perfect world, he and McCoy could help Jim become all he was meant to be.

One step at a time. With luck, the events of today would prove to be a step forward, not back.


	4. Nightmare

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* * *

Nightmare

When Spock entered Jim's room to say goodnight, Jim looked a lot more normal. Spock let out a small breath he did not know he had been holding. It seemed McCoy's advice was on the right track. He put a hand on Jim's shoulder and kissed his temple, feeling even better when Jim did not flinch at his touch this time.

Jim spoke hesitantly. "So...we good?"

Spock controlled the urge to raise an eyebrow at the illogic of it all. They had never been 'bad.' "Yes," he said instead, giving Jim a small smile. He had never actually smiled in this Jim's presence before, but he felt a slip in his controls might help reassure him.

Jim did look very relieved and gave a small, genuine smile in return.

Emboldened by the return of a relaxed, more confident Jim, Spock sat next to him on the bed and put his arm around him. "Now, can you tell me what your nightmare was about?"

Jim fidgeted with the blanket and gathered his thoughts. Spock waited patiently for him to answer. Finally, Jim spoke. "I dreamed I was that captain. Jim, I think his name was also Jim?"

"Affirmative."

"Anyway...so I was him. I was looking for you, but I couldn't find you. Then, I found you on the ground..." Jim couldn't seem to continue.

"I was dead," Spock surmised.

"Yes," Jim responded, his eyes downcast. "I was alone, lost in space."

Spock tightened his arm around him, contemplating how to best approach the issue. Perhaps he should continue following McCoy's advice and try to rescript the nightmare. "Beyond the obvious, how would you have preferred it to progress?"

"I don't want to be alone," mumbled Jim.

"May I suggest that whenever you think of this dream, you redirect your thoughts to finding me on the bridge. The dream could end with our arrival at Earth. Is that sufficiently reassuring?"

"Yeah," answered Jim, though his voice held more doubt than Spock liked. Jim was silent a moment. "Did you...do something to me last night? I remember your hands on my face, and then I sort of blacked out..."

"I apologize for doing that without asking. I gave you a sleep suggestion."

"It's okay. Can you...do that again? I slept really good after that."

"Jim, I cannot allow you to become dependent on my sleep suggestions. However, I will give you another one tonight, as you wish."

Before he could put his hands on Jim's psi points, Jim said, "I love you, dad."

Spock's eyes softened. "I love you too, Jim. Are you ready?"

At Jim's eager nod, Spock again reached for his psi points, pressing firmly and sending the most powerful sleep suggestion he could summon. Jim immediately sank into oblivion.

Spock allowed himself another tiny smile at the sight of his young, sleeping charge. He arranged him so he would be more comfortable, but did not leave right away. It was good to have things back to normal. Dr. McCoy had been right. No doubt he would be pleased to hear that.

After several minutes, Spock left to meditate for the night. As he had surmised, his sleep suggestion was powerful enough to prevent nightmares, so Jim slept the entire time without distress. Knowing he was unlikely to come out of the induced sleep in time for school, Spock shook him awake.

Jim groggily opened his eyes. He took a minute for his thoughts to become coherent, before commenting, "Wow. I can't remember ever sleeping this good! Thanks dad."

"Do not mention it," Spock said with some irony at the idiom.

Jim was still a little quiet, but much more himself as he got ready and rode to school with Spock. "Have a good day at school," Spock bade him.

"I will," promised Jim with a smile. Then he turned and joined his friends on the way to his first class.

Spock's comm buzzed on his way home. "Spock here," he said.

"Spock, it's McCoy. Just wanted to let you know that the appeal is this morning. I'm on my way there now."

"Thank you doctor. You will also be pleased to note that your suggestion with Jim worked. He is now acting normally."

"Good," said McCoy. "If you have any more problems, let me know. How are the nightmares coming?"

"He has not had any more nightmares since the last one I told you about, as a result of sleep suggestions I have been giving him. I have informed him that I will not allow him to become dependent on them. However, it seems prudent to allow him to take advantage of them for the time being."

"Maybe you're right," agreed McCoy. "I wouldn't mind a sleep suggestion or two myself. Well, I've got to go, but I'll let you know as soon as I know anything."

"That will be appreciated, doctor."

When Jim and Spock arrived home after school that day, Jim was surprised to find Spock gesturing for him to follow him out back instead of in the house as usual.

"Put down your school bag," said Spock when they had reached a wide expanse of grass surrounded by trees and bushes in the back of the house.

Jim obeyed, curious.

"I have given it some thought, and it is my belief that you will benefit from learning how to defend yourself. Seeing that I am trained in more forms of combat than most individuals, I believe it most efficient if I am your teacher. However, if you are more comfortable with someone else teaching you, I want you to tell me."

"No, I want to learn from you," said Jim shyly yet eagerly. He bet with Spock being some sort of secret agent, he knew all kinds of awesome moves.

Spock's eyes crinkled momentarily in pleasure. "Then, let us begin. There is a Vulcan maxim, which roughly translates to and is summed up by a human one: Think, Yell, Run, Fight, Tell, when it comes to self defense. Thinking, is what we are doing, that is, preparing and realizing we need to be prepared to defend ourselves. Yell, refers to the literal yelling in warning and for help, but also to communication and boundary setting. Run when the first two are not effective, both mentally and physically. Fight when you are cornered and have no other choice." He paused, for emphasis. "Then lastly, Tell, in order to heal." He adjusted how they were standing in order to demonstrate better. "When you are fighting an opponent bigger and stronger than you, aim for the vulnerable areas, such as eyes, nose, ears, throat, knees, groin and the top of the feet. A solid blow, gouge, or pinch or any of these areas will momentarily stun them, giving you time to escape." Spock showed him some basic moves, such as getting out of an arm hold and choke hold, and had him practice aiming for the vulnerable areas from different positions.

Spock was a persistent, yet patient teacher. Despite his gentleness, Jim could tell he would have no problems taking on even the strongest and biggest of opponents. That was a little intimidating and frustrating. At the same time, Jim felt more empowered already. What he knew about defending himself was all self-taught, and not very effective, especially considering he had been at a large disadvantage to begin with, with Frank. Now he had a few moves he could do that would really increase his odds of winning.

"That is enough for today. Do you have any objections to daily practice?" asked Spock.

"No, it's fine," said Jim.

Spock gazed at him a moment, pleased. He had feared that showing off his knowledge of defense and combat would intimidate Jim, but that was not the case. As he had hoped, Jim now seemed more confident. This had been a good decision. Perhaps his skills at parenting were improving.

When they entered the house, Spock heard his comm buzzing. He hurried into his room to take the call, shutting the door. It was McCoy. He did not look like a happy man.

"Spock," he said, strained. "I'm afraid it didn't go so good today. I'm sorry."

"Please specify, doctor. What happened?"

McCoy reluctantly gathered himself to tell Spock what had occurred. "I prefer not to relive it, but basically Winona put forward a solid case, and it really looks like it's going to go her way. The only good thing was that she finally agreed to divorce Frank, but unfortunately that too only made her case stronger."

"Keep me apprised," said Spock softly, his voice lacking his usual neutrality.

"Will do, Spock. I'm sorry." They cut the connection.

A few minutes later, the last person he wanted to see stood on his doorstep. It was Winona, coming to visit Jim. Spock's manner was even more frosty than usual as he let her into the living room, leaving her and Jim alone.

"Well, Jim, what did you do since I last saw you?" asked Winona.

"Well, I went horseback riding," Jim started.

"Are you going to get your own horse?" Winona asked.

Jim felt uncomfortable with this line of questioning. Sure he wanted a horse, and sometime down the road, maybe he would ask Spock. But, not right now. "I don't know, maybe down the road."

"So you would like one?" she prodded.

"Yeah," Jim admitted. He decided to change the subject right away, in case Spock was listening. "Then we went out to eat, and played chess. Sunday I went to Gary's and hung out, and today Spock started teaching me how to fight."

"Sounds like you've been busy," commented Winona.

After several more minutes of awkward conversation, Spock came out. Jim looked up at him, surprised. That was unusual.

"I must ask you to leave," said Spock coldly. "Jim has homework to do."

Jim knew he didn't have much, but he didn't protest. He didn't exactly want his mom to stick around either.

"Well, I'll be going," she said to Jim. "I will see you soon."

Once she left, Spock sat down next to Jim. "McCoy called before your mother visited," Spock informed him reluctantly. "I'm afraid to say he believes she will win her appeal."

At Jim's crestfallen look, Spock put his arm around him. "It is not over yet," he reminded him. They sat there for several silent minutes, before Spock insisted that he really do his homework. Jim obediently set to work.

For the next several days, as they waited for the results of the appeal, Jim found himself busy with his friends, finishing the school year, Winona's unwelcome visits, and Spock's lessons of learning how to fight and defend himself.

Spock's face was grave when he picked Jim up on the last day of school. Jim felt his euphoria for summer vacation fade a bit as he took that in. "Hi dad, what's wrong?" Jim inquired as he climbed into the hovercar.

"McCoy called this morning," Spock stated without preamble. "Your mother won her appeal."

"Oh," said Jim, his stomach sinking. "So, how long does she have me for?" Maybe it wouldn't be that much.

"Winona has a long term Starfleet assignment coming up in a few weeks. I am to drop you off tomorrow, and she will have you until she leaves. She will be gone for several months after that."

"Will you be able to visit me?"

"No, I cannot," said Spock shortly. He looked over at Jim, and he could see regret in his eyes. "Jim, it will only be a few weeks, then you will not have to see her for several months. It will be all right."

"Yeah," said Jim doubtfully. He supposed it could be worse. It was hardly the way he had wanted to start out his summer, though.

Jim spent the evening packing and playing chess with Spock. He didn't feel up to fighting today. When he went to bed, he waited for Spock to come give his sleep suggestion. Spock had agreed to keep giving them to him for a few weeks, as long as the appeal was going on. Jim sure enjoyed them.

Before Spock lifted his hands to Jim's face, he said, "Under the ruling, I am not allowed to talk to you until it's time for me to bring you back. However, if you should feel threatened, do not hesitate to contact me."

Jim nodded gravely. "Okay, goodnight dad."

"Goodnight."

Jim felt the familiar fingers on his face and sank gratefully into oblivion.

While Jim slept, Spock loaded the hovercar with all his things, until all Jim had to do was climb into the car the next day. He was not eager for Jim to go in the least, but he preferred to spend what time they had left doing something together, perhaps one last game of chess.

He also meditated. Kirk Prime had insisted, long, long ago, that he did possess a 'gut instinct' that leaped beyond logic, as his did. If he was to be believed, then his 'gut instinct' was telling him something was not right, beyond the obvious. It was a sense of horrible foreboding. It was still not in his nature to give into speculation. Yet, he could not deny such a persistent feeling.

This was all connected to Jim somehow. Something unfortunate was going to happen to Jim, outside of the fact of being in his mother's presence. Something he, himself, would not be able to immediately help Jim with. Spock could not put his unease to rest.

Perhaps, there was something he could do. Something he could slip into Jim's luggage, to aid him. But what? He was unsure of the exact nature of the threat, so arming against it in an efficient, effective way would be difficult. He sank into deeper meditation, allowing an answer to come to him.

When Jim finally woke from his induced sleep, Spock approached his bedside, a serious expression on his face. "Jim, though it is illogical, I admit to some foreboding about our impending separation."

"What do you mean?" asked Jim nervously.

"I do not like you being in a situation where I cannot protect you. Also, Winona's behavior is difficult to speculate now that she is away from Frank."

Jim looked away, frowned, and bit his lip. What could they do about it?

"Jim," said Spock gravely, drawing his attention back. "There is a Vulcan tradition of forming mental links between parents and their children until they come of age. If you will permit it, I could create such a link between us."

"What would it do?" asked Jim.

"It would give me a general sense of your whereabouts and state of being. Nothing more."

"Would I be able to sense you too?" This sounded potentially cool.

"Perhaps. Since you are not Vulcan, it is difficult to predict." Spock sat down on the bed next to him and put his hand on his shoulder. "What do you think?"

"Ok," said Jim.

Spock frowned dubiously at Jim's easy acquiescence. "You are certain?"

"Yeah," insisted Jim with a small smile.

"Very well. Sit still and close your eyes. Do your best to relax." Spock pressed his hand on Jim's psi points, muttering under his breath.

Nothing happened for a few seconds. Jim held his breath, wondering what to expect. Then his brain started buzzing with some kind of weird electricity, expanding outwards, until it hit another source of buzzing electricity with a jolt. A vague consciousness was behind it. Spock's mind!

Spock held the connection for a few moments, allowing it to strengthen and establish itself. Then he pulled away reluctantly. Jim appeared to be equally disappointed at the separation.

"Wait," Jim said, touching the back of his head with his hand. "I can feel a buzzing, right here." He looked at Spock in wonder.

"Yes. That is the mental link. It will lessen or intensify according to our proximity. Is it uncomfortable?"

"No," said Jim. "I like it. What do you feel?"

"I can feel that you are indeed you, and not, for instance, a holographic image. I can vaguely feel a general sense of well-being mixed with anxiety. Does this disturb you?"

"No," said Jim.

Spock knew him to be telling the truth. "Very well. I'm afraid it's time for us to part."

Jim nodded. When they were about to climb into the hovercar, Spock said, "Jim," and pulled him into a hug. They stood there a minute, Spock holding him, stroking his hair, and kissing his temple. Then they climbed in.

When they arrived, Spock helped unload Jim's luggage from the car. The moment of parting had arrived.

Spock lifted his hand to Jim's psi points, stroking once, lighting up their connection for a brief moment. "Remember." With that, Spock left, the buzzing dimming slightly in his mind as the distance grew.

Jim was about to start dragging his luggage up to his old room when his mother came out. "Hi, Jim. Don't bother taking that up to your room. Take it right out to the hovercar! We're going on a trip!" She smiled broadly, her hands clasped together.

Jim stared at her, unenthusiastic. "Okay." At least he'd be away from the house, with all its unpleasant memories. He lugged it all into the trunk of the hovercar, noticing that there were several pieces of luggage there already, presumably Winona's. When they were both settled in and on the road, Jim slouched, stared out the window, and asked, "Where are we going?" He'd never been on a trip with his mother. Where would she take him? He had nothing to draw from to even start to guess.

"Off planet. It's going to be a surprise!"

Jim turned towards her, straightening his posture in surprise and excitement. Exploring would be fun, even if it was with his mother. And yet… "I _am_ going to be back here in two weeks, right?" asked Jim uneasily. He was beginning to understand why Spock had seemed so nervous.

"Oh, Jimmy, don't worry about that so much!" she said.

This did nothing to alleviate Jim's concerns, and he thought about comming Spock right then and there. But, she HAD to return him at the end of two weeks, didn't she? She had to do her Starfleet assignment. Plus, his mental link should help Spock find him if something happened. So really, he had nothing to worry about. Even if the sinking feeling in his stomach insisted otherwise.

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There might be a bit of a delay in getting up the next chapter. While the rough draft of the story is complete, I need to make improvements to the next story arc. In the meantime, please review. :)


	5. Constellation

A/N: Thank you to visionaria48, seacat03, Guest, SpirkTrekker42, Sapere, and Hoshikari for reviewing!

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Constellation

When they got out of the hovercar, Jim slipped into a zombie-like trance. It all seemed so surreal. His mom, taking him anywhere? Off planet, no less? He was finally, finally going. It had been a dream of his for so long, he could hardly believe the reality of it. He would finally get his chance to explore space like his dad. Both of his dads, he corrected himself. In one of George's letters, he'd talked about how he felt more at home in space than anywhere else. That Captain had said that for he and Spock, the journey itself, was home. Would he find out what they meant?

As his mother gave the clerk their luggage, he watched a shuttle power up its engines. Minutes passed. It roared to life! His eyes followed it as it climbed higher and higher. Soon, that would be him. What would it feel like? Would it be as awesome as he'd always imagined? Would it be anything like the Enterprise simulation?

They sat in the waiting area. Winona read on her padd, while Jim took in all the sights, his energy winding higher and higher. He kept glancing at his mom, unsure how to handle this strange person who wore her face. It reminded him of his uncertainty with Spock. At least with him, he felt safe. With her, he wasn't sure how he felt.

He kicked his legs against the chair. What he wouldn't give for his comm right now. He'd planned on hanging out with his friends if his mom let him. They were probably wondering why he hadn't contacted them. But, maybe they were just going to the moon or something. Maybe they wouldn't be gone long.

Their flight number was called for boarding. Jim followed Winona in, still scarcely believing it. She silently let him have the window seat. Jim peered out, listening intently for any increases in engine noise. The flight stewardess, meanwhile, did a demo of the resources and procedures available during an emergency. Jim barely understood it, unable to hear half of what she said. He glanced at his mother. She was in Starfleet, right? He might not have the greatest of confidence in his mother, but she should know what to do in an emergency. He wasn't worried. Besides, Spock had a tendency to come out of nowhere when bad stuff happened. He was still amazed at how Spock had saved him during the cliff incident.

ROAR! The ground dropped away. Jim stared down. There wasn't much to see, it being Riverside, but it was still amazing. Blue gave way to black. Jim stared in awe at the sight of Earth. So amazing how something so large now looked so small.

The pilot announced their imminent boarding with the large warp cruiser ship, Constellation. So, they weren't going to the moon. She intended to take him on a longer trip. Despite his misgivings, his sense of adventure was piqued. Where were they going?

Jim and Winona disembarked when the airlock was secure. Winona, having traveled on this type of ship before, gave him a brief tour. After several attempts at awkward conversation, Jim finally asked, "How long will it take to get there?"

"A few days, at least," said Winona. "Maybe more."

If it had been Spock, he would have given an estimate down to the second. Jim frowned. What would he do with himself all that time? "I'm going back to our room," he announced. His mother waved in acquiescence, heading for the galley.

Back in his room, he pulled random things out of his suitcase, hoping to come upon something interesting to do. Reaching deep, his hand brushed against paper. A book. He could read! He pulled it out, opening it to the first page. "It was the best of times; it was the worst of times." A Tale of Two Cities, then. Somehow, this opening line seemed fitting for his current situation. The bond with Spock, though still noticeable, buzzed less now that the distance was growing. Would Spock realize what was happening?

There was no point in debate. He wasn't supposed to call him, and so far his mom hadn't done anything too frightening. He stood and headed out for the observation deck, book held tightly in his grip, remembering the cornfield incident. He would not lose this replacement copy.

When he arrived, he noticed an elderly Asian woman sitting in a corner. She, too, was reading a paper book. Jim stared. It was unusual for paper books to be seen these days. He thought he was alone in that particular eccentricity.

Feeling his stare, the woman looked up. Jim quickly looked away and was about to retreat to the other side of the room when she spoke up. "Hey. You like paper books too?"

"Yeah," said Jim, walking closer.

"I'm Hoshi Sato."

"I'm Jim Kirk."

"What book do you have?"

"A Tale of Two Cities," admitted Jim.

"That's cool. I'm reading some ancient Andorian. I like to keep up my language skills. Would you like to sit with me?"

"Sure," said Jim shyly. Other than Spock, she was the first person who didn't think his choice of book texture and content as strange. He sat down across from her. "You're a linguist?"

"All my life. Started with a private tutor when I was younger than you and never stopped since."

Something niggled in Jim's brain. Linguist… Hoshi Sato…

Noticing Jim's look of dawning comprehension, she added, "I served as communications officer on the first USS Enterprise."

"Really?" asked Jim in excitement. _That_ was where he'd heard her name before!

"Yes. Under Captain Archer. Those were some of the most challenging, yet rewarding years of my life."

Jim's head buzzed. He hardly knew where to start with his questions, he had so many! "Were there any Vulcans on board?"

"Oh yes. In fact, our first officer, T'Pol, was Vulcan."

Jim knew that T'Pol had been first officer, but he didn't know she was Vulcan. "Cool. My dad is Vulcan," Jim blurted. Maybe she would be willing to talk about Vulcans with him. The chance to confide in a neutral third party was refreshing.

"Really? You don't look – sorry, even after all these years, I can be too blunt."

"Naw, it's okay. He's my adopted dad actually, as of a few months ago."

"You must be a special kid. I've never heard of a Vulcan adopting a human child."

"Me neither," said Jim. "It all happened so fast."

"If my years with T'Pol have taught me anything, it's that once you've earned their loyalty, they are loyal to the end. I bet he's a great dad."

Jim's throat closed up. He glanced back down at his book, pretending to read.

"You miss him," she concluded astutely. "It's okay. I miss my family too."

Sensing he wanted to drop the subject, she returned her attention to her Andorian text.

They sat in companionable silence. Jim glanced at her book a few times, interested in the strange runes on the front. It must be neat to know so many languages. He frowned, something itching at his brain. Some language thing he wanted translated. What had it been?

"Mrs. Sato?"

"Call me Hoshi," she insisted with a smile.

"Hoshi, you know Vulcan, right?"

"Yes. That was the first alien language I learned. Why do you ask?"

"There's this word I heard someone say to my dad. I can't quite remember what it is though. It started with a "T" I think."

"A 'T'," Hoshi mused. "What was the context?"

"It was an audio recording for my dad. A friend of his was wishing him happy birthday. It seemed to be some kind of nickname."

Hoshi frowned in concentration. "Sorry, I'm not really sure. I'll need more than that. Do you remember anything else?"

"No," admitted Jim.

"It'll come to you. Language has a way of suddenly making sense once you let it sit for awhile."

Feeling bolder, Jim asked her about the Andorian book. She read him parts of it, explaining the history as she went. He hadn't met anyone so interesting since Spock. He hoped he would be seeing more of her on this trip to who knows where.

Wait. Maybe she knew where they were going! "Where are you headed?"

"I'm going to Tarsus IV. There's a new settlement there that I think I will retire at. How about you?"

"My mom won't tell me," said Jim, a leaden ball of suspicion dropping low in his stomach. "Do you know if there are going to be other stops?"

"There usually is. Especially with something as out of the way as Tarsus."

Jim wasn't very reassured. His mother had asked him before if he'd wanted to go to Tarsus, and was being very odd and secretive about the whole thing. Spock sure didn't seem to think it was a good idea to go, and it was no short distance from Earth. Was she really going to give him back after the two weeks like she was supposed to? Would she even have enough time?

"What's wrong?" asked Hoshi, noticing his troubled look.

"I should probably call someone," said Jim vaguely. "I'll be back. Thanks, Hoshi."

"No problem," she said, watching as he left. Something odd was going on. Or maybe she'd spent too much time in space and was getting paranoid in her old age. Shrugging to herself, she went back to her book.

Jim searched his suitcase for his comm. He definitely had packed it! Where was it? He dumped everything on the floor, methodically looking at everything as he repacked it. Nothing! His mom must have taken it at the spaceport while he'd been watching the shuttle launches.

Biting his lip, he looked at his mom's suitcase. Dare he go through it? He glanced at the door. How would she react if she caught him? His heart thudding, he carefully opened the case and combed through it while disturbing the contents as little as possible. It looked like she didn't have a comm either.

Maybe he could ask Hoshi. He returned to the observation deck. However, she disappointed him. "Sorry. One of the main reasons I chose Tarsus was to get away from technology, so I don't have one. If it's urgent, I could talk to the captain. He'd probably let me use the ship's comm system for you."

Jim dithered on the spot. He wanted to call Spock, yet, he didn't want to make any trouble. He had no proof that his mom was taking him to Tarsus. Like Hoshi said, these cruisers made a lot of stops. He could be overreacting. "No, I think I will be okay," he replied uncertainly.

"Are you sure?" prodded Hoshi.

"Yeah," said Jim.

"Hello, Hoshi, I see you've met my son," said Winona, coming up behind Jim and putting her arm around him. Jim tensed and resisted the urge to shrug her off. His heart thudded. Had she heard any of their conversation? Would she be angry?

"Hello. You're… Winona, right?" said Hoshi.

"You remember me!" Winona bent her head down, meeting Jim's eyes. "Hoshi and I served in Starfleet together for a short time."

Jim nodded, relieved. Usually if his mom was unhappy, she wasted no time in telling him. She must not know about his comm search.

"Still in Starfleet?" asked Hoshi politely.

"Yes, on a contract basis. With Jimmy in my life, I'm not doing the five year missions anymore."

"How has that been for you?" asked Hoshi, a strange look on her face.

"Oh, you know. I've had plenty to keep me busy. I don't think about it."

"I think about it all the time," Hoshi confessed, still watching Winona. "My time in Starfleet is clearly over, but I'm still up for more adventure."

"Well, I'm just out here for Jimmy's sake, really," said Winona, giving Jim a squeeze and a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "It's his first time in space!"

Hoshi glanced between the two of them, confused and somewhat suspicious. Winona was very different from what she remembered, and Jim's behavior didn't fit with a son being happily surprised with his first trip in space. And how did Jim's adopted Vulcan father fit into this picture? Something very strange was going on. Still, it wasn't her business. "You better watch out. He'll be following you into Starfleet next."

"Well. That's a long way off," said Winona carelessly. "This is family time!"

Jim had about enough of his mom's arm around his shoulders. Seeing his expression, Hoshi decided to offer him an out. "I was just teaching Jim some ancient Andorian. Want to sit down and learn some more, Jim?"

Jim shot her a grateful look. He'd happily listen to her tell him about even the most boring Starfleet regulations if it'd get his mom's arm off him. "Yeah. I haven't learned much about Andorians in school," he replied, stepping forward and attempting to shrug his mom's arm off. Hoshi wasn't Spock, but this was something his dad would've done for him. For a moment, he didn't miss Spock quite so badly.

Winona, however, did not release her grip. "Jim, I just said this is family time."

Jim turned towards her, his eyes stony. "Can't I learn more Andorian first?"

"Jim! You will not take that tone with me!" Winona exclaimed, her fury rising with each word. Jim thought there was something crazed about the look in her eyes. She dragged him back to their room, making a bit of a scene. Jim missed Spock's calm, logical demeanor fiercely. He would have listened to him! He would not have treated him like a stupid kid!

In their room, Winona turned to face him, that crazy, out of it expression still in place. "What's so important about learning Andorian?" Winona didn't give him much time to answer before she cut in again. "Jim, forget about school and everybody else. Relax. It's summer vacation! I haven't seen you much lately, this time is for us!"

Jim swallowed uneasily. Was this what the trip was going to be like? Her dragging him away whenever he started to make friends?

Unfortunately, he was right. Over the next few days, he was unable to talk to Hoshi for long due to his mother hanging around and insisting he spend time with just her. Without his comm, he was unable to talk to his friends. At night, he got very little sleep. He did not feel safe without Spock watching over him. On the plus side, his insomnia meant no nightmares.

Finally, when his mom went to talk to the captain for awhile, Jim had some time to himself. He decided to seek out Hoshi. So far, she was the only one he'd really befriended on the ship.

Hoshi smiled as Jim sat down next to her. "Finally managed to get away?"

"Yeah," said Jim.

"She do that a lot?"

"No, actually."

"My parents usually didn't cling either. In fact, I spent more time with my language tutor than anyone else."

Jim turned towards her fully. "That… must have been lonely." Could she relate to how he felt?

"It was. But feeling alone just made me more determined to learn more about language, to connect with people. Maybe it wasn't the most ideal or typical childhood, but it's made me who I am today."

Jim debated whether to confide in her his own issues with feeling alone. It would be so nice to talk to someone disconnected with his situation, who had nothing to gain or lose. Yet admitting how he felt, even to someone as nice as Hoshi, was difficult.

Hoshi picked up on his tension. "You miss your dad, don't you? Why didn't he come along?"

"He's not allowed to. It's not his turn to have me." Jim kicked at the floor with his foot.

"Oh. I see." It sounded like Jim's situation was complicated. No wonder he seemed troubled.

"I just want to go home," Jim confessed. Going out in space had been fun, but now it just seemed cold and empty without Spock or any of his friends. His connection with his dad was growing faint, leaving him feeling more alone than ever. He wondered what Spock thought. Had he realized that he'd left the planet?

Hoshi gazed at him sympathetically. "I know the feeling." She paused. "How about that Andorian?" Maybe that would get his mind – both of their minds – off the things they'd left behind. Jim nodded gratefully. While it wasn't his favorite subject, he appreciated the sentiment behind it.

That night, Jim's exhaustion finally caught up with him, and he dreamed. He was on the ship, the first Enterprise, striding down an empty hall. Where was Spock? He went up to the bridge, but it was empty. "Hoshi? Archer? T'Pol?"

No response. He spotted a boot sticking out from behind the chair. Jim approached with shaking legs, dread pooling in his belly. He screamed and dropped to his knees as he saw it belonged to Spock, lying dead on the floor. Jim looked at the view screen. The stars disappeared. He was hurtling through the blackness of space…

Jim awoke with a sob, shaking like mad, clutching at his sheets. The ship was sailing on, and on… he was alone! "Spock," he whispered. "Spock." He buried his face in his pillow. He did not want to wake up his mother. Yet he was desperate for any kind of contact, anything to ease this panicked feeling of loneliness. Breathing heavily, he focused on the slight prickling on the back of his skull, the only sensation of his bond that remained. "Spock. Please." He grew lightheaded as his panic and breathing spiraled out of control. Passing out would be a mercy.

"Jim."

Jim stilled. It sounded like Spock had spoken right into his ear. "Dad?" he whispered. There was no response. Had he imagined it? He glanced around the room, his breath calming, his thoughts organizing themselves into a more rational stream. Didn't his dad tell him to picture the nightmare with a different ending? Jim settled down on his bed, visualizing Earth. How reassuring it would be to see it out the window now.

Jim somehow managed to slip into a light doze. He felt he'd barely shut his eyes when his mother shook him awake, an excited smile on her face.

"Jimmy! We've arrived!"


	6. Tarsus IV

A/N: Sorry this took so long! I did a lot a rewrites. It doesn't much resemble my original plans, but I think you will all like the new direction I've decided to take. Eventually. Thanks to Sapere, foxeeflame, hittocere, GabrielsDoubt, Timme, Hoshikari, hentai18ancilla, kamiam714, Tishbing, transformersfan411, Hunnybee13, MalikaiDragonSlayer, and Constance Truggle for reviewing! Sorry if I missed anyone - let me know, and I will credit you in the next chapter!

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Tarsus IV

After packing up their things, Winona took Jim out to the observation deck. He sprinted to the window, stopping just shy of pressing his nose up against it, staring out in awe. The planet was truly a sight to behold. From here, it looked like Earth, except with more water and different land masses. At least, what he could see of it. Thick shifting clouds obscured much of the planet. Despite the accuracy of holovids, there was something about them that simply didn't capture being here, seeing the real thing. He glanced at his mother, who stood next to him, bored. She probably wouldn't understand. If Spock were here, he bet he would. Something about the way Spock gazed at the stars when he thought Jim wasn't looking betrayed his feelings about them. It had been more than just a job to him; unlike his mother.

Jim was so excited he could hardly stand it as they boarded the shuttle bound for the surface. His first time on a different planet! Though they descended into the seemingly endless stormclouds, the ride was surprisingly smooth. Jim bounced in his seat impatiently. Any moment now!

There! Below, stretched a modest settlement of houses interspersed with farmland, with a small cluster in the center, which he supposed was the city. Really, it reminded him much of Iowa – except much wetter, with some puddles even visible from this height. It certainly was as flat.

"Here, Jimmy," said Winona, handing him an umbrella from her carry-on bag, as she took one out for herself. "It's just as wet as my briefing said."

"Briefing?" questioned Jim.

"Yes. This is where I'm going on assignment," she explained matter-of-factly.

"Oh," said Jim, fiddling with the wrapping. It had the Starfleet insignia on it; it must be Starfleet issued. It made him wonder just what different kinds of things Starfleet issued. Did they even have Starfleet underwear?

They landed with the barest thud. Jim focused on the door. Any second now! The door opened with a hiss, and people started filing out into the pelting rain. Jim shifted from foot to foot as they slowly shuffled out. He took in the sights in complete fascination, from the log buildings to the strange fauna. For being an entirely different planet, it did not appear to be that much different than Earth, save the general lack of technology. He followed his mother, not paying much attention to where they were going.

Despite the rain, many people were out and about. Some kind of farmer's market was going on, though there didn't appear to be much produce for the amount of tables out, under canopies to keep them dry. Maybe it had all been sold already?

And was that… _Kevin?_

"Hi Jim! Mrs. Kirk. Welcome to Tarsus!" the younger boy said. "You didn't tell me you were coming."

Jim smiled. "Hey, I didn't know I was! You live close by?" _Tarsus?_

"Yeah, on the outskirts. Westland Row. How about you?"

Jim glanced at his mother.

"Our house is on Westland Row too," she confirmed.

Something inside Jim uncoiled a little. He'd never spent much time with Kevin before, but it was a relief to have someone around here he knew. Speaking of that, since this was Tarsus IV, Hoshi had to be around here somewhere too. He hadn't seen her on the shuttle, but maybe there was more than one.

"Where are your parents?" asked Winona, interrupting his thoughts. Jim stared at his mother. This was probably the longest, politest conversation on record that she'd had with any of his friends, since she actually spoke to him without asking him to leave.

Kevin pointed out two figures huddled under an umbrella down the road, peering at a table of carrots and other vegetables.

Winona made her way to them, so Kevin and Jim followed.

"Hello, I'm Winona Kirk. My son goes to school with your son," she said to them once they were within speaking distance, shouting slightly over the rain.

"I'm Karen, and this is Mark," said Kevin's mom.

"Do you mind if Jim hangs out with you for awhile? I've got some things to take care of at the house."

They looked at the boys, then each other. "Sure," agreed Mark.

"Thanks," said Winona shortly. "Here, Jimmy, go shopping," she said, handing him some money.

Jim's eyes widened as he took it. This was definitely a first. She'd never, ever given him money to spend. And her quick dumping of him was such a radical difference from her behavior on the ship. He didn't know what to make of it.

She left without another word.

"Come on, I want to introduce you to someone!" said Kevin, grabbing Jim's hand and pulling him forward. He allowed himself to be dragged along by the eager youngster, still reeling from his mother's atypical behavior. They came up from behind a dark haired boy not much older than Jim.

"Hey Tom!" Kevin called.

The boy stopped and turned around.

"This is Tom," introduced Kevin, as Tom gave Jim a small smile.

Jim shook his hand quickly. "Jim Kirk. Are you from Earth?"

"No. I was born here," said Tom. "How about you?"

"I just got here," Jim explained.

Tom gave a sharp nod, a contemplative look on his face. "Starfleet?"

"Yeah, my mom is," confirmed Jim.

"So, what are you guys getting your dads for Father's Day?" asked Tom, after a short, awkward silence.

Father's Day! It had such little meaning to Jim before, that he hadn't paid it any attention. Now, however, he felt a pang as he counted the days. Less than a week. He'd miss his first Father's Day with Spock. "I don't know," admitted Jim. Even if he hadn't missed it, what would he get him? Spock seemed to have everything.

"I'm making mine a t-shirt!" said Kevin. "Irish Dad!"

"That's a good idea," said Tom. "I think I'll do that too."

"Me three," said Jim uncertainly. Would Spock wear it? Would he even like it? He had no idea. Spock usually wore fairly boring, plain clothes. It was hard to imagine him in a homemade t-shirt. Yet, he wanted to do _something,_ and it seemed like a good of an idea as any other.

With that consensus, they set out to gather supplies. As the trio hunted through the farmer's market for everything, Jim was still struck by his earlier observation. "There isn't much food here. I thought this was a farmer's market?"

"It is," said Tom. "But my dad says they're having trouble with some kind of fungus. We haven't gotten much crop so far, so we're mostly eating from storage."

"That doesn't seem good," observed Jim. Without replicators or much technology, they depended on plants for survival. Was that why Spock didn't like Tarsus? Then again, he'd mentioned something about the governor.

"It isn't," agreed Tom.

"Does this have anything to do with Kodos?" asked Jim.

Kevin gave him a weird look. "Why would he have anything to do with it?"

Jim shrugged. Spock didn't like Kodos; somehow, he'd find out why. He refocused on his task at hand: picking out a shirt to paint on. What color? Nothing too bright, he decided. Neon would probably freak him out, or raise an eyebrow at the very least. That left black, gray, white, brown, or blue. Jim picked out the blue shirt, and followed his new friends to get art supplies. The rain finally let up, but it remained cloudy.

As they finished shopping, Jim wondered if he should get anything for his mom. Despite their distant, awkward relationship, he felt strange bringing things home for Spock and nothing for her. With that in mind, he bought the last cherry pie at the market, which he knew was her favorite.

Now he had his hands full. His mom hadn't mentioned any plans for getting him home. What was he supposed to do?

Fortunately, when they returned to check in with Mr. and Mrs. Riley, Karen noticed his dilemma. "Hey Jimmy, where did you say you lived?"

"He lives on our road," Kevin cut in.

"You can walk home with us then," she offered.

"Okay. Thanks," said Jim. Tom said goodbye to them. They set off, chatting about their purchases.

"I think I know where you live," said Karen several minutes later. "We know everyone on our road, and to my knowledge there is only one vacant house. That one."

He turned to where she was pointing, seeing a one story house with plenty of acreage. And, was that a barn and paddock in back of it? Wait. Was that a _horse?_ He could scarcely believe it. Maybe there was some mistake. Maybe this wasn't his house. Had his mother, who had always treated him like a burden, gotten him something as high maintenance as a horse?

They walked right up to the front door, and Mark knocked. To Jim's utter surprise, his mom answered the door. They'd been right!

"Jimmy! How sweet," she said, referring to the pie. "I'll put it in the refrigerator. Set your other things down, I have another surprise for you!" she said, gesturing out the window.

"You mean the horse? Is he mine?" Jim asked, dumbfounded. "For the two weeks?"

"No, he's all yours!" said Winona. "And 'he' is a she. Sophie."

Jim searched for words, uncertain. He thought he'd be excited at getting his own horse – and in a way, he was - but there was just something so _odd_ about this. "I hope Spock will let me keep her," Jim commented, for lack of anything else to say. He wasn't supposed to stay here long. If she was going to get him something like this, why didn't she give it to him on Earth, instead of going through the hassle of shipping her there?

"We'll see," she said noncommittally, which did nothing to ease Jim's weird feeling. She took the pie from him and briefly thanked the Rileys for dropping him off before excusing herself. The Riley family left, despite Kevin's longing glances at Sophie.

Jim, meanwhile, set his things down, and trudged out to meet Sophie, heedless of the mud sucking at his shoes. He still couldn't believe it. His very own horse! It didn't make sense. Where had this come from?

She raised her head at his approach, and then stuck her head over the wooden fence. Jim reached out and petted her, taking note of her brown and white paint pattern, gazing into her kind, sensitive eyes. Then he climbed the fence and stood next to her, burying his face in her mane and hugging her neck. He wished Spock was here. Their bond was no more than the barest tickle in the back of his head. It could even just be his imagination. Just how far did his bond with Spock reach? He wished he asked, but then again, he hadn't predicted what his mother would do. Spock had been right about her. Without Frank, who knew what she would end up doing.

"Jimmy! Our luggage is here!" called Winona minutes later. Jimmy left Sophie to finish her hay and entered the house, looking around curiously. It wasn't very big: two bedrooms, one bathroom, a kitchen/dining/living area combined into one, and a large storage closet. He grabbed his luggage from the front door, dragged it to his room, and set about unpacking.

It was when he set his books on the shelf that he found it: a piece of paper, meticulously folded. Jim opened it. In precise, neat script, was written:

_Jim,_

_I know how you enjoy the written word. May I presume that you will enjoy mine?_

Spock! Jim grinned widely. He hadn't seen this coming, but in retrospect, maybe he should have. He continued reading.

_I hope this finds you well. If that is not the case, do not hesitate to contact me. I must confess, I am unaccustomed to communicating in this manner on a personal level. I am looking forward to your return. I will remain in the area in case you need me. You are, however, a resourceful individual; I have no doubt you can find solutions to any problem you might face. Please comm Dr. McCoy a few times to apprise him of your status, especially if you have nightmares._

_Love,_

_Your dad_

Spock. Warmth flooded through Jim, stealing his breath. He held onto the paper tightly, no longer feeling quite as lost and alone as he had before. He knew he'd have this letter memorized before his time here was over. He carefully placed it back in the book where he'd found it. Spock must have slipped it into his luggage while he was asleep.

Buoyed, Jim was in high spirits for the rest of the day, helping his mother unpack and getting the house and yard situated. When he went to sleep, he didn't even have nightmares.

The next morning, Jim emerged from his room, yawning. He found his mom in the kitchen, which wasn't surprising. What _was_ surprising was that she was in full Starfleet uniform. He stared for a second, uncomprehending. He'd never seen her wear it.

"Hey Jimmy," she greeted him. "Why don't you make some eggs?"

He shrugged and turned on the antique stove, one of the few things that worked in this atmosphere. "Why are you wearing your uniform?" he asked despite himself, as he started cracking the eggs over the pan.

"I'm on assignment," she explained, as if it were obvious.

Which, really, it was, but – "Weren't you supposed to later on?" He hoped she wouldn't get annoyed by his questions, like she usually did.

"They're having a crisis with this fungus that's destroying the crops. They need all the help they can get."

"Aren't there pesticides or something for that?" asked Jim in confusion. It sounded like some kind of plague, which was now unheard of on Earth.

"Yes, but this is some kind of exotic fungus that resists everything we put on it. What makes it worse is how wet this planet is. That makes it spread like crazy."

"What are you guys doing about it?"

"We're building ventilated, dehumidified greenhouses to grow things in. We're hoping if we can isolate plants and get them dry, we'll at least slow it down until we can figure out how to kill it."

Wow. That was the longest, nicest conversation he could ever remember having with his mother. It seemed like this planet was full of firsts for him. Yet, the situation sounded pretty serious. If she was busy with that, how was she going to transport him back to Earth? Would Spock have to pick him up? Shouldn't they let him know? If so, how would they? Most technology didn't work here, and that included comms.

His mother seemed to be in a hurry right now, though, and they did have another week. He decided to ask her about it later.

"Oh, I need to get a babysitter," she said in frustration, obviously just thinking of it.

"What about Hoshi?" Jim asked. He didn't think he needed a babysitter, though.

"She'll be ok, I guess," Winona said unenthusiastically. She looked through her padd, presumably for Ms. Sato's address. "I'll send her over on my way to work. You'll be fine for a few minutes, right?"

"Yeah," said Jim.

She rushed out the door without another word.

Jim finished his eggs and went outside to feed Sophie. He was in the middle of grooming her when Hoshi showed up.

"Hello again," she greeted him.

"Hi Hoshi. Want to join me in here?" asked Jim.

"I'm good out here, thanks. Unless you need help?"

"No," said Jim, finishing up. Maybe he could ride later, after she was finished eating. He wondered how many other people had horses here that he could ride with. It didn't sound like Hoshi was much of an equestrian.

"Have you heard about the fungus?" asked Jim, wanting her perspective.

"Yes. I'm surprised they didn't let more people know about it. I had no idea about it until I got here. It is looking serious." She laughed in irony. "Here I thought I was finally going to retire. I guess my life was destined to be a drama from start to finish."

"Will they have to abandon the colony?" asked Jim.

"I don't know. Maybe. That is much easier said than done, though. There's so many people, and not many ships come out this way, and the ones that do don't come often and aren't that big." She paused, seeing Jim's worried expression. "I wouldn't worry about it. They should find some kind of solution, and if necessary, we can ask Starfleet for more help. It'll be okay."

Jim hoped she was right. Hoshi then changed the subject, telling him all about her time on the Enterprise, which succeeded in distracting him.

Hoshi agreed to babysit him for the next few days. His time with her inspired him and lifted his spirits. Kevin, Tom, and a few others came and hung out from time to time. They finished their shirts, and spent time with him on Father's Day, so he wouldn't miss Spock so much. In turn, he helped with Mr. Riley's enthusiastic but inept attempts at home improvement, which secretly amused the boys to no end. One time, Mark attempted to install surround sound speakers to his house. Instead, he'd ended up blasting "I'll Take You Home, Kathleen" to the whole neighborhood, with no idea of how to turn it off. Jim got to know the area from Sophie's back, and spent quite a bit of time with her also. As a result, not even his mother's mood swings got him down. Being away from Spock was hard, but not as bad as he'd feared. It wasn't permanent. He would enjoy his time here the best he could. Being on this new planet, with all these novelties, without having to face the emptiness of space, helped him feel less alone.

Despite his improved outlook, his nightmares returned. After one such nightmare, he got up early, feeling achingly alone, and went to the kitchen in search of a snack. However, the refrigerator was empty.

He waited for his mom to get up. When she entered the kitchen, he said, "Hi. The fridge is empty."

"I know Jimmy. They've started rationing the food."

"Rationing?" repeated Jim in disbelief.

"Yes. Don't worry about it. It's just a precaution. Go back to bed."

There was no way Jim could sleep now. Instead, he wandered out to hang out with Sophie. The horse breathed comfortingly in his ear as he wondered what was going to happen. Was the plague going to get worse? Would the food run out? He hugged Sophie, wishing that he was hugging Spock instead. Spock would know what to do.

"I can't just sit around here and do nothing," Jim told her. "I've got to do something." It was getting time for him to leave, and he planned to confront his mother about it soon. But, in the meantime, he couldn't just let this go on.

Determined, he marched back to the house, the mud sucking at his boots loudly in the quiet. He took them off when he got back into the house and entered the kitchen. "I want to help," said Jim without preamble.

"Well, I haven't gotten our breakfast yet, Jimmy – "

"No, I mean, _help._ With the plague."

Winona stared at him as if he'd grown another head. "You're not old enough for Starfleet."

"I know, but there must be _something_ I can do. I can't just _sit_ here and do nothing!"

She looked irritated, but relented. "You can't help with the Starfleet team, but Kodos's aide is speaking about it in the town square today. You might be able to help some of his men."

"Ok," said Jim. Kodos, though?

"Ok, I've got to go. Make sure Hoshi goes with you." Winona rushed out.

He dithered on the spot, unsure. He really wanted to help, but Spock's warning about Kodos made him hesitate. "I do not think it wise to live under his jurisdiction," he'd said. Whatever that meant. What would he do, though? Surely Jim would be ok helping with the crop crisis.

With that determination, Hoshi and Jim stood in the town square a few hours later, waiting for Kodos's aide to speak. Hoshi only agreed to go because Jim wanted to. "What have you heard about Kodos?" asked Jim.

"Not much," Hoshi admitted. "He doesn't make public appearances, mostly working behind the scenes. I heard someone mention that he's into eugenics, though." Her tone suggested that she was disturbed by this.

"What's that?" asked Jim.

"It's like…" Hoshi searched for the right words. "Eugenicists have a picture in their minds of what they think the human race should be. So they promote marriages that will perpetuate the desired genetic traits, and discourage marriages that don't. In extreme cases, they will segregate the population and take measures such as sterilization and abortion to enforce their vision."

Jim stared at her in horror.

"I wouldn't worry about it. He's been Governor since Tarsus was founded, and he hasn't made any eugenic polices," she tried to reassure him. "It's probably just a hobby."

_That_ must be what Spock was concerned about. Spock believed in IDIC, which was just about the opposite of eugenics. He let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. Somehow, he'd had a feeling that it was worse than that. Spock, though grounded solidly in reality, was also an idealist. He probably just didn't like the idea of a eugenicist being in power. He firmly pushed his worry out of his mind.

A tall man, presumably Kodos's aide, took the podium. "Citizens of Tarsus," he began, projecting his voice. It grew quiet. "The plague has grown in strength. As the Governor of this colony, it is now time for me to step in and take action. Starfleet has implemented rationing for their personnel. It is now time to extend that to all colonists. Starting today, every colonist must come to the town square for their daily ration. Very soon, we will reassign housing to expedite this process. Martial law may be enacted. Before this measure is taken, we need everyone to lend a hand during this crisis. Speak to my aides to volunteer your services. We will emerge victorious. Signed, Kodos, Governor of Tarsus IV."

Hoshi and Jim looked at each other, eyes wide. "You're right, Jim," she said. "I'm retired, but that doesn't mean I can't do what I can. This has gotten worse than I suspected."

Together, they fought their way to the front, to help in whatever way they could. Spock would be proud of him. He was no longer just a farmboy in fifth grade; he was someone who made a difference. He would help save this colony!

* * *

Ok, I'm making writing a priority right now, with no college work to do, so the next chapter should be a lot sooner. I'm debating whether I should have Spock's point of view or not, or wait until later. What do you think? More Spock POV, or keep it to a minimum? I might just try it and see. I just don't want redundancy if you know what I mean.


	7. Stranded

A/N: After dinking around, Spock POV seemed to fit here. Thank you bmars.312010, Constance Truggle, seacat03, foxeeflame, RachelVille, zeynel, GabrielsDoubt, K Ernst, MSU82, and Sapere for reviewing. Sapere, login so I can reply! :) I had no idea that Sophie's Choice was slang for a no win scenario. I had named her after a therapy horse I like.

* * *

Stranded

"Jim? When was the last time you've eaten?" Hoshi stood with her hands on her hips, frowning at a pale, faint Jim. For the past week, she'd been working on modifying a comm in hopes of breaking through the atmosphere. Jim split his time with assisting her and helping with the rations, spending less time with his other friends. Kodo's aides had determined that was their best contribution to the situation. "You've been giving me your rations, haven't you? There always seems to be more in my refrigerator than what I left."

Jim stared at her, and then shrugged. He'd been caught.

"Why?" she pressed.

"You need it more than I do. Besides, I'm going to be leaving anytime now. I'll be fine." No one had mentioned a ship coming, but his mom was legally bound to give him up, so there _had_ to be one.

"Leaving? Where?"

"I have to get back to my dad. It's his turn to have me. So there must be a ship coming to get me." Even as he said it, his heart sank at the look on her face.

"Jim, there's no ship coming. It's rare that one does. The one you came on only stopped because they were dropping off Starfleet personnel. That's why it's so important that I find a way to punch a hole in this atmosphere. There's no other way to ask for help!"

"What? I'm stuck here?" asked Jim, fighting panic. Until now, he'd been able to keep his cool because he thought he was leaving soon. Was he stranded here? He hugged himself, curling inwards.

"Hey, it's going to be okay," she tried to assure him. "I'll keep trying. If I can survive the Xindi, we can get through this."

"I _have_ to get back to my dad," Jim burst out. "He wouldn't want me here. He doesn't like Kodos, and he doesn't even know I'm here. He won't know where to find me."

"Your Vulcan father?" asked Hoshi. Maybe if she asked him factual questions, he would calm down. She'd seen T'Pol employ that method many times.

"Yeah. I really, really miss him," said Jim.

"I know how that is. Most of the Enterprise crew is dead, except for Admiral Archer. And T'Pol. She'll talk to me, if I want, but she isn't into the warm fuzzy friendship thing." She paused. "You say your father doesn't like Kodos?"

"He doesn't think he's a good leader," said Jim. His mind felt sluggish from lack of food. It was hard to think of the exact words.

"Well, Vulcans don't form those kinds of opinions without logic and hard evidence," commented Hoshi. "We'll have to keep an eye out." She paused. He still looked freaked out, but she thought he would be okay. Not that she could blame him. "In the meantime, eat your own rations. I'll be fine."

"Ok. I should get back to my house. Do you need anything?" asked Jim. He was thinking it was time to confront his mother, as uneasy as that made him. What was she thinking? Could Hoshi be wrong? He didn't think so, but a small part of him stubbornly hung on to hope. Maybe it was a Starfleet only ship.

"No, I'm good."

Jim left for Westland Row, fists clenched unconsciously, his breathing uneven. When he got home, he'd have a bite to eat. Then he would ask his mom the questions he should have asked from the first. Had even the little faith he'd had in her been too much?

He found her sitting at the island in the kitchen. All Starfleet personnel had been forced to work less to keep up their strength, so she was there more often than not. Jim grabbed a peach from the refrigerator and started eating. He eyed his mother, trying to gauge her mood. It'd gotten harder lately. Cohabiting with her felt like walking on eggshells. With Frank, he'd been the one to watch out for, with Winona just allowing it. Now, her moods swung from almost pleasant, to angry and demanding in a heartbeat. He sure missed Spock's even keel. "My two weeks are up," he started. "A ship's going to pick me up, right?" _Please, let Hoshi be wrong._

"Not today, Jimmy," she said tiredly, her head resting on one hand.

Jim's throat tightened. _What?_ "What do you mean, a ship isn't coming for me? It's Spock's turn!" Panicked adrenaline surged through him as the last of his hope died.

"A ship will come sooner or later," said Winona impatiently. "What's the big deal? You have the summer off. You have your horse. You're living on a different planet. Aren't you happy?"

"Mom, there is a _famine_ going on. And besides, didn't you make a legal agreement to share me with Spock?"

"We'll get it under control," said Winona, her temper flaring, a slightly crazed look creeping in her eyes. "You're never happy! I've done more than that Vulcan has ever done for you. Did he get you a horse? Did he let you off planet?"

She didn't get it. Jim didn't think she ever would. His stomach sank. After all that had happened between them, he thought it was impossible to still feel even more betrayed by his mother. He was wrong.

"Answer me! Can't you see you're better off without him?"

"No!" ground out Jim, furious. "You lied to me. Spock would never do that." That was but the tip of the iceberg, but he was too weak to summon more arguments. His head spun dizzily.

"I didn't lie to you! You never said anything. I thought you were happy. You should be."

"Well, I'm not." He fought back tears. _Spock._

"We're a _family_. Spock's not even the same species! Vulcans don't have emotions. How can he possibly be a good parent for a human? He doesn't even understand the human concept of family!"

"Spock does too have emotions! He'll be looking for me," said Jim, projecting more certainty than he felt. Sure, he'd make some inquiries, but how far would Spock really go? Would he just leave it up to Starfleet to find him? He sucked his breath in fearfully. Who knew how long that would take! The famine could get even worse.

"We'll see," she said, calming slightly. It was obvious she thought she'd won the argument. "Ed Molson should be here soon. Why don't you go out and wait for him?"

"Fine," Jim huffed angrily. Ed was their hay delivery man. So far, their hay supply had held out better than the food supply. Since hay didn't do well when wet, precautions had been made to keep it sequestered from the very beginning. This was a relief; at least Sophie didn't have to suffer. He stormed outside, pumped with adrenaline, and went to the tack shed. He picked up her new halter monogrammed with her full name, "Sophie's Choice," and set out to catch her.

She met him at the gate, which never failed to make him smile. She was a very sweet, willing, eager to please mare. Maybe the only living being on this planet that was truly on his side. Somehow, he'd get her away from here, even if it meant giving her away. She deserved better. He tied her to the fence. Ed would need to walk through the pasture to deliver the hay to the shed. He wished he could give her a treat, an apple or something, but they didn't have those here.

Minutes later, the telltale clip clop and rumblings of the horse drawn hay wagon reached his ears. Jim ran out to open the hay shed doors for their weekly delivery. He always waited until the last second to do that because of how often it rained. No doubt about it, horses were a lot of work. He personally wouldn't trade it for anything though.

"Hi, Ed," called Jim when the wagon came to a stop. He liked him; he'd insisted that Jim could use his first name.

"Hey, Jimmy." He didn't smile, and Jim's face fell. What was going on? "I'm afraid I've got some bad news. Somehow, the fungus got into the hay storage. We've all been very careful; I don't know how it happened." Ed raked his hand through his hair in frustration. "As we've seen everywhere, it spreads very rapidly. We've transferred what good hay we have to one of the new greenhouses, but the overall supply has been severely depleted."

"You mean…" Jim started, horrified. Just when he thought things couldn't get worse. He'd thought Sophie was _safe,_ and had taken comfort in that.

"I mean, we've started rationing the hay. You've been giving her about six large flakes a day, right? Better make it three now. I know that isn't much. You'll have to make sure she has plenty of water."

Three flakes of hay was only enough to feed a miniature pony, not a full size horse like Sophie. "She'll starve," said Jim, feeling tears well up in his eyes again. With everything bad that had happened in his life, he usually wasn't much of a crier. But the physical stress his body was going through was taking its toll. He worked to control his breathing. It wasn't like he hadn't been starved before, but never for this long. He'd really thought those days were behind him. God, he wished Spock was here.

"I know," said Ed, distraught. "What makes it worse is my horses will get to the point where they're not strong enough to pull the delivery wagon anymore. I'm trying to deliver as much as I can now before that happens. I hate to say it, but you should know that there might not be much more coming. I'm really sorry, kid. There's nothing I can do," said Ed, looking close to tears himself. He loved his horses as much as Jim did and would prefer to starve himself than see them suffer. But, it didn't work that way. "Letting them go won't help; that fungus is destroying _everything_. They'll just get sick from eating it, and die all the quicker."

With that, he jumped down from the wagon and transferred Sophie's allotment of hay into the shed. Jim was forced to sit down, shaking from grief and starvation. That peach hadn't been enough.

"I really _am_ sorry, Jimmy," said Ed, laying a hand on his shoulder when he was done. "Maybe talk to the vet. See if she can't prescribe something to help with any pain Sophie will start to feel."

"Okay," said Jim. "Thanks."

"I've got to make my next delivery. You take care now."

Jim waved goodbye. Then he decided to tack up Sophie for one last ride. It sounded like she wouldn't be in any condition for it after this. He climbed on and set off down the road, keeping her at a walk. Technically, he was supposed to tell someone, or have someone go with him. With all the chaos, Winona had given up on the idea of having him properly supervised, and he wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone anyway.

Sophie seemed to pick up on his somber mood, and kept the pace slow. It was raining again, but he barely noticed it anymore. As he passed several houses and made his way around the outskirts of town, he noticed that the colony was now starkly different from when he'd arrived. Less people were out and about; the few he saw, clearly had specific, urgent business to attend to, and paid him little mind. People moved slowly and lethargically. No one was smiling, and if they did, it was wan. It was just so _quiet._

He wished fervently there was something more he could do, more than helping Hoshi, more than helping give out rations. If only he had a brilliant mind like Spock's, or experience like Hoshi's, maybe he could actually _solve_ what was going on, instead of feeling so helpless.

But all he had was a vague, horrible foreboding that only seemed to increase whenever he saw Kodo's men whispering to each other. Something was going on with them that wasn't quite right. They'd begun reassigning housing, having the older and frailer people and those with children live in the city; while the stronger, healthier ones reassigned to further out. He understood their reasoning: the healthier ones would have an easier time of making the trip than the others, especially as things got worse, but some of the assignments didn't make sense to him. For instance, the Rileys had been assigned to be in town, yet, he and his mom weren't, and neither were the Leightons. Other than that, he hadn't been able to put his finger on why he felt this way, but he would certainly look for an opportunity to find out.

Jim lost track of time as he wandered around on Sophie, never wanting the ride to end, but taking it easy so she wouldn't burn calories. Would he ever ride her again? Would he ever ride again, period? What was going to happen to the colony if Hoshi didn't get a signal through? How would they survive? Would he have to put Sophie down? Jim skittered away from that thought. Someway, somehow, they had to hold out until help came.

Jim ended his ride reluctantly. He grabbed another peach from the fridge and decided to check on Hoshi. His mom, thankfully, wasn't home anymore.

On his way, he passed the cemetery. He hadn't paid it much mind before. The colony wasn't very old, so it only had a few plots. Now, however, he saw a bunch of men digging holes. It was a very muddy job. The men were filthy.

One of them noticed Jim's concerned glance. "We've had our first deaths from the plague," he explained. "Smith and Jensen. They were sick already. The lack of food was the last straw. We have a few more who aren't looking good either. Way things are looking, this will turn into a full time job. I know it's morbid, but that's life, son," he said apologetically.

"I'm sorry," said Jim, unsure of what else to say. He didn't think he could feel any worse.

"Go and have fun. While you can," he added.

Jim nodded and continued on his way. Darkly, he couldn't help but think – was that where he would end up, if help didn't come in time? As someone who also helped with the rations, he knew it wasn't looking good. Hoshi _had_ to succeed. There was no other option.

"How's it going?" Jim asked Hoshi after he entered her assigned house in town (she'd given him a standing invitation since he'd started assisting her). She was stuck underneath a communications console she'd built herself, making modifications.

"Slow. I still have to build a feedback loop so I know that the signal is getting through. _If_ it does, of course," she said irritably. They were all eating less than they were accustomed to; tempers were high.

Jim sat down, trying to hide how weak he felt. "Need anything?"

"I need it to stop raining. Not only is the cloud cover affecting the comm in a strange way, it is making my joints ache. Never get this old, Jim," she advised.

Obviously, there was nothing he could do about that. "Sorry," he shrugged. He hadn't thought much about it before, but he wondered if Spock had any old age problems. If he did, he didn't show it. Jim hugged himself. Would he ever see Spock again? Chances were slimming every day. Was that man at the cemetery right? Was this really going to end in tragedy? "A few people just died from the plague. I talked to someone working at the cemetery."

"Oh no. I knew they weren't doing well. Give their families my condolences. I can't stop what I'm doing until I succeed."

"Ok." All this talk of death made him think of his father – his birth father. What did he feel before he died? He wished he had even one memory of him. But his dad had never seen him either, except maybe with an ultrasound. Hoshi had known his mother, though. Had she known his father? He voiced this to her.

"As a married couple, they were always assigned to the same ship. So yes, I did talk to him from time to time. He was a great officer. A real professional. Bit of a joker, at times. And he looked a lot like you! I know he'd be proud of you. You're quite mature for your age." She paused. "Your mom seems different than what I remember from back then." Her tone suggested she thought she was treading on thin ice.

"She hasn't been easy to get along with," Jim admitted.

"How did you end up with a Vulcan as a father?"

Jim gave her a heavily edited and downplayed version of the events.

"Wow, kid. You've been through the ringer. Next time you see your dad, tell him I said hi," said Hoshi.

He wished he had her optimism.

That night, Jim again had the nightmare of finding Spock dead on the Bridge of the Enterprise. He'd been having it most nights, yet this one was more vivid and drawn out than the others. When he woke up, he couldn't control his shaking. "Spock," he whispered. "Dad." He pulled out his letter and read it over and over, but it barely helped. At night, alone in his bed, it was impossible to hide from the strength of his deepest fears. He was _stuck_ here, with a mother he couldn't trust. No one else had any real tie to him or responsibility for him. Spock would probably leave it up to the authorities to find him, and who knows how long that would take. This famine was getting worse and worse. People were _dying._ Maybe he would too.

He was alone.

Spock had meditated more in the past few weeks than he had in the past few months.

Dropping Jim off hadn't been easy. Linking with him had helped, but not for long. It had faded rather quickly. Almost as if he'd left the planet. However, this bond was weaker than the one he'd created with Kirk Prime. It was difficult to speculate how it would mature. He could not say for sure what the dimming indicated. He meditated on it and did his best to strengthen the connection.

A few days later, Gary had commed, stating that Jim hadn't contacted him lately. Spock told him to bring his concerns to McCoy. The doctor had called back the next day, saying that he hadn't been able to raise either Jim or Winona on the comms. This supported Spock's theory that Jim was off planet. Still, it was strange that he hadn't contacted anyone before they left. Perhaps Winona had taken his comm away from him. She seemed emotionally unstable.

It also could mean nothing of the sort. There was little he could do during the two weeks Winona was designated. Unanswered comms and faded bondlinks were not enough evidence for the authorities to investigate. He had to wait until the two weeks were up. He meditated even more to control his increasing anxiety and tried to concentrate on his projects. On the last day, he stopped by Winona's and ascertained that they weren't there, and hadn't been for some time.

Now the two weeks were over, and he'd never been less impressed with Starfleet's protocols.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Spock. But we always give a three day grace period for a parent to return the kid when they've got them for a week or more. We've had too many cases where they went off planet, then, through no fault of their own, got delayed in returning."

"Do you not restrict them from leaving the planet?" asked Spock. He'd made the assumption that they did. He really should have looked into this, but it had never occurred to him during the custody hearings that Winona would leave Iowa, much less Earth, based on her previous behavior. A mistake he would not be repeating.

"Only if they have them for less than a week."

"She did not tell me where they were going, or attempt to make arrangements for Jim's return. Can you tell me where she planned on going on assignment?" It looked like he would have to take matters into his own hands. That would be the place to start looking.

"No, I'm afraid that's classified, and we don't have grounds to release it. Not until after the grace period, and then you need to submit an appeal and official inquiry."

"Very well," said Spock, though it wasn't. "I will speak to you in three days' time." He cut the call. It was possible that they were, as the person said, unavoidably delayed. Yet, during his deepest meditation, the little he picked up from the link was disquieting. He'd gotten spikes of strong anxiety. Worse, a sense of ill health. It was vague, weak, but there.

Starfleet wouldn't help him. Perhaps it was time to use his personal connections to make some headway. He opened a connection to the Vulcan Embassy, frowning in determination.

"This is Solkar, Ambassador Sarek's aide. How may I assist you?"

"Solkar, I am called Selek. I wish to speak to Sarek."

Solkar raised an eyebrow. This Selek must be on familial level terms with the Ambassador to speak of him without his title. "Very well. I will pass on your message. He is currently in negotiations with the Bolians. I expect he will be available later today."

"I will be expecting him." With a polite nod, Spock cut the call. Whether Sarek could override the grace period, he didn't know. It was his best chance at it. As much as he wanted to go tearing through the galaxy to find Jim, he had to have at least some kind of lead first. Otherwise, it would be next to impossible to find him, even with the link.

Nevertheless, lead or no lead, he would find Jim soon, one way or another.


	8. Discovery

A/N: Thank you to Tishbing, zeynel, Constance Truggle, Lina03, GabrielsDoubt, K Ernst, foxeeflame, and bmars.312010 for reviewing!

* * *

Discovery

The next day dawned bright and sunny. Jim slumped against the wall while still on his bed, gazing out at it. This was his first time seeing it here. Usually, it was just too cloudy for even the stars to come out. It was a good omen, if he believed in such things.

He padded softly out to the kitchen and grabbed what little there was in the fridge. He wondered what Spock was doing now. He had to have realized that something was up. Did he suspect the truth? Would Starfleet come looking for them? It didn't seem like they'd send out a ship just to settle a family dispute. It was nice to think about, though.

After giving Sophie what little hay he could give her and filling her tank, he set out for Hoshi's. She'd made several comments about the weather making things difficult. Would the sun coming out be enough to get the signal through? That would be the best news in ages if it were so.

He found her asleep under her console. Jim winced in sympathy. That couldn't be comfortable for her. She was too old to be able to sleep on the floor. He gently shook her awake.

Hoshi groaned. "Ow, my back hurts," she complained. "Actually, _everything_ hurts. I can't believe I fell asleep like this."

"Can I get you something to eat?" Jim asked.

"That would be great," she said. "I don't think I can get up right now."

Jim was surprised by the amount of food in the fridge. She must not have been eating much, devoting all her time to her work instead. He put what there was on a plate and set it down next to her.

"Thanks," she said, eating slowly.

"The sun's out," Jim commented after a minute of companionable silence. He knew she couldn't see it from the floor.

"Really? Great," she said with a half-hearted attempt at enthusiasm.

"How has it been going?" asked Jim. By her tone, he'd guess, not very well.

"Well, I've done every modification I can think of. I've noticed the signal strength varies throughout the day, so the only thing left to do is to keep trying." She finished her breakfast. "Help me up."

Jim took a hold of her hands and pulled. Normally, he'd be able to handle someone as light as her fairly easily. Now, weakened, it was a real challenge. Hoshi grimaced in pain but didn't complain. After a minute's struggle, he managed to get her on her feet. Exhausted after even that minimal effort, he sat down in a chair next to the console.

"Well, let's try this one more time." She pushed buttons and flipped switches in a sequence Jim didn't recognize, despite the time Hoshi had spent explaining things to him this past week. She froze as something started beeping madly on the console. Her face broke out in a grin. "I don't believe it. According to my feedback loop, the signal broke through the atmosphere! The sun coming out must have done the trick."

She turned to Jim, beaming, who smiled back with equal enthusiasm. This was the best he'd felt in days. She pulled out a padd, where she kept a message written by Kodos for this possibility. She opened the comm channel. "All Starfleet personnel: This is a distress call from Tarsus IV. A fungus has destroyed most of our food. We need immediate assistance and supplies. Repeat: this is a distress call from Tarsus IV…"

Jim sat quietly and listened, willing the message on its way. When she was done, he asked, "How long will it take to get to headquarters?"

"You know, I'm not sure. It could take days or even weeks. If we're lucky, it'll be intercepted by a Starfleet ship before then, but there's no guarantee." She sagged. "There's nothing to do but wait and see if we get a response. I've got to get some rest. I'll let Kodos' aides know after that. Why don't you go hang out with the boys? I know you haven't spent much time with them lately. There's nothing more you can do for me here. I'll come find you if I get a message back."

"Ok," said Jim. He stood up slowly. With less food to eat, it was getting harder to move around without getting dizzy and losing his balance. It was even worse for Hoshi. He'd had to help her more than once after a fall.

Jim spent the next few days with his new friends and left Hoshi alone. He knew she was exhausted. The Rileys checked up on her from time to time, so he didn't have to worry. She would be fine.

The boys didn't have much strength for playing baseball or any other sport they liked, so they mostly sat around telling stories and debating what was going to happen, such as if, and when, Starfleet might come. Tom told them about his father's attempts to kill the fungus. Though he never joined Starfleet, Mr. Leighton was an accomplished scientist in his own right, and did his best to help. Kevin gave them all a good laugh when he recounted how his father had tried to wire surround sound in their new city house, despite his mother's attempts to dissuade him. Though none of the Rileys had much practical knowledge or experience, they went a long way to add levity to the situation and keep everyone's spirits up.

Jim, in turn, told them about his friends at home. Though Jim missed them, he was glad they weren't here. He wondered what they were up to now. What did they do when he didn't respond to any of their calls? The last time he'd seen them was on the last day of school, when they talked about all the things they planned on doing together this summer. Was that the last time he'd ever see them? Or would Starfleet get their message in time to save the colony? It seemed like that was the only thought in his head these days, repeating in a loop.

And he still didn't know what was going on with Kodos.

One afternoon, despite his increasing weakness, he decided to find out. He had the time now, and that nagging, horrible feeling just wouldn't leave him alone. That, coupled with Spock's warning, spurred him into action. He quietly wandered the town, keeping a sharp eye out for Kodos' men. He finally spotted one of them entering a building. The door didn't quite shut properly after him. Now was his chance.

As he soundlessly approached the door, he heard a heated discussion taking place inside. He paused, listening.

"Have we moved everyone Kodos wanted into the city limits?" asked one man.

"Yes, everyone is in place," assured a female voice that he recognized as someone he worked regularly with. What was her name again? His mind was too sluggish to recall. "What about Starfleet's personnel? They don't believe in eugenics."

"Don't worry about it," said the man. "They're not as noble as you think. He's made bargains with some of them, and the rest are too few and weak to be a problem."

Jim frowned, his heart beating faster. What were they talking about? Eugenics? Bargaining? And, it sounded like the Starfleet officers had been getting less rations than the others. He wasn't allowed to hand out those rations, because he was directly related to one, so he hadn't noticed. Had Kodos' men, in turn, been getting more? Whatever was going on, it didn't sound _good._

"What if Starfleet does get the message? What if they're on their way right now?"

"We can't live on what ifs. Kodos is right, we have to face facts. If we don't follow his plan, everyone will starve to death."

"How in the world is he going to restrain everyone in the city? 4,000 people aren't just going to stand there and let themselves be shot!"

Jim froze in horror, his heart thudding. _What?_

"He's planted mines around the city, especially the outskirts. He has a remote control that will set them off, one by one, if people try to escape. It will either be a painless death with a phaser, or a more excruciating one with a bomb. What would you pick?"

Jim's mind screamed with denial, his feet planted as firmly as if they had roots. This sort of genocide only happened in the history books. Didn't it? Hadn't mankind moved beyond this sort of thing? Yet, it was happening!

"Since we're done separating them, everything is in place; we just have to wait for Kodos to give the order. I'll let you know. I think he has a speech prepared for the occasion; his first one to the colony. He didn't want to make someone speak it on his behalf this time. Too important, too much responsibility. Besides, I think only the governor can declare marital law. Anything else to report?"

"No, nothing," said the woman.

Jim heard footsteps rapidly approach the door and it burst open. He tried to move away, tried to make it look like he was doing something other than what he'd been doing, but it was too late.

"Hey kid, what are you doing here? Have you been eavesdropping?" The man made to grab him.

The weeks Spock spent training him paid off. Adrenaline rushed through him, giving him the strength to yank the man to him and flip him onto his back, knocking the wind out of him. Jim grabbed the phaser that was knocked out of the man's hand and dashed away. It wouldn't take long for the man to regain his wits and come looking for him. Then, he'd be in _big_ trouble. Would they imprison him? Would they kill him? If he was caught, then everyone would die. The genocide would take place as scheduled. He had to warn someone, anyone, and do it now!

_Hoshi._ Hoshi would know what to do. He made for her house, looking over his shoulder occasionally, though that slowed him down. To his relief, he made it without obviously signs of pursuit.

"Jim? What's going on?" she asked in concern as he burst through her front door, paler than she'd ever seen.

He stood there, gasping, shaking, tears forming in his eyes. His stomach churned. He barely made to her sink before he emptied what little he'd eaten into it.

Hoshi handed him a towel and a drink of water. "What happened?" she asked again.

Haltingly, Jim told her everything he'd seen and heard, hugging himself. "What should we do?"

"I hate to say it, but it won't take them long to figure out who you are. They'll come looking for you, and everyone who knows you," she warned him. "You're going to have to go into the south woods and hide. That is your best chance. I think you're going to have to take all your friends with you. Kodos will expect you to tell them. Who knows what he will do to prevent this getting out." She leaned heavily against the counter. "You go on ahead. I'll gather everyone, and we'll meet you there. _Be careful._"

He nodded and took off again, fighting the violent dizzy, nauseating spell it brought. Only adrenaline kept him going. He reached his house and took a few random things that he thought would help him survive in the woods. Hoshi was right; it was the only place he could hide that they probably wouldn't follow him into. It was very nasty in there with all the fungus, but he had little choice.

Jim stuffed a few last things into his backpack, and then cautiously crept outside, his phaser still clutched in his hand. It didn't look like he'd been followed, and his mother was nowhere to be seen either. That just left Sophie.

"Oh no," said Jim. What could he do with her? He couldn't just leave her here. She'd run out of water soon and die slowly of thirst. He didn't know how he'd be able to take care of her in the woods, but he'd think of something. At the very least, he might be able to find water for her.

With that decided, he threw the saddle on her so he'd have something to tie her hay bag and bucket to. The cinch was almost too big on her now, even when he put it on the tightest hole on both sides. He stuffed the hay bag as much as possible before leaving. It wouldn't last very long, but it was all he could do for her.

As he set off for the woods, his adrenaline wore off. He sagged against Sophie, struggling to walk, to even stay conscious. Only the fear of being caught kept him going. He had to stop several times to rest. As he did, his mind spun with anxiety. Would Hoshi find everyone? Would they get caught? What about his mom, what would she do? Would she come along, or would she stay in denial about the whole thing? As little as he liked her, he didn't want her _dead._ How long could they survive in the woods? Would Kodos and his men look for him there? How would he be take care of Sophie? Wouldn't breathing the fungus in the woods be bad?

Finally, he reached the woods. It smelled terrible. Maybe he wouldn't have to be worried about being followed after all. He could barely stand to be in there himself. He took a cloth out of his backpack and put it over his nose, which helped somewhat. He cross tied Sophie tightly between two trees so she wouldn't be able to eat the fungus, and then took a blanket from his backpack and collapsed on it.

That was how Hoshi found him later when she finally arrived with his friends and their families in tow. His mom was nowhere to be seen. Hoshi directed them into forming a circle around her. Jim feebly sat up and joined them. The Rileys, Leightons, and even Ed Molson was here, along with a few other families he hung out with.

"Ok, now that we're all safe," stated Hoshi. "We can plan our next move. We need to warn the others who live in the city. Obviously, Kodos will be expecting this. I think only one of us should go, and I think that person should be me. I have the most experience at this kind of thing. Otherwise, we all might get caught. If we get enough people out of the city limits, we might be able to find a way to defeat Kodos and his men and retake the city. Does that sound like a plan?"

Kevin and Tom's dads contested her decision to go to the city by herself, but in the end, Hoshi got her way.

"It might take some time, so don't worry if I'm gone awhile," she said, finishing the debate.

"Where's my mom?" asked Jim quietly when their impromptu meeting ended.

"I couldn't find her. I couldn't find her or any of the other Starfleet personnel," Hoshi said gravely. "I'm going to go back to town now. I'll try to find out, and I'll send her here if I find her."

She started to walk away, but stopped. "And Jim,"

He met her gaze.

"Live long and prosper." She smiled.

Jim smiled back, and watched her until she disappeared from sight.

With Hoshi gone, his mind turned toward the more immediate problems. He had a score of people here who, at best, had brought a day's rations with them. How long would they be out here? What would they eat? How would they survive? If Hoshi succeeded, how would they be in any shape to stand up to Kodos' men? They had nothing, except…

Except. Jim stared at his half-starved horse tied a few feet away. _No,_ his mind screamed. _Never._ Yet, he couldn't ignore the solution in front of him. He felt sick again. He didn't think he could eat her, but he doubted everyone else would have the same qualms. He still had his stolen phaser. She would die quickly, without pain.

No. He couldn't quite bring himself to do it, not yet. Maybe Hoshi would be back soon. Maybe another solution would present itself. Anything, anything, but that.

That night, he barely slept. The adults took turns keeping watch. It started to rain. Jim burrowed as far down under his waterproof blanket as he could go. Kevin and Tom woke up a few times, and they whispered to each other fearfully until they were able to sleep again.

The next day, they were out of food, and Hoshi still hadn't returned. There was some debate as to whether someone should go to the city and try to steal some food, but Jim knew he couldn't let them take that risk.

"I'll – " he spoke up, before his throat closed around his words.

"What? _You're_ not going to go," said Mr. Leighton. When Jim had first met him, he was a big, intimidating man. Now he was much slimmer and more frail, but still intimidating.

"No, I mean. You don't have to. My horse…" he couldn't finish.

"You mean…" said Karen, understanding dawning on her face.

"Yeah."

"You want me to do it?" asked Mr. Riley, compassion in his voice.

"No. Just – give me a little time," said Jim. He'd let her finish her hay bag, and then lead her a little away from everyone. He didn't think he could do it with everyone watching.

"All right," said Karen. Kevin and Tom made to go after Jim as he left, but she stopped them. "I think he wants to be alone."

Jim gave her the rest of her hay bag and found her some water. The least he could do was to have her die comfortably. He wrapped his arms around her neck and buried his face in her mane. He hadn't known her long, but he loved this horse. She'd been one of the best things about this place. She was one of the sweetest, kindest beings he'd ever known. She didn't deserve this fate. He couldn't bear to do what he was about to do, yet the idea of having something else do it was even more intolerable.

"Here," said Ed Molson, coming up to them quietly. He took Jim's phaser and reset it before giving it back. Then he tapped the white spot on her forehead meaningfully. "That's the most humane spot. I -" his voice cracked a little. "I had to do it myself, with my own horses." Then he left.

Sophie slowly finished her hay. Jim loosened her ties so she could drink from her bucket. He'd wait, give her time to digest it. But after that, there was no more reason to delay. "I'm sorry," he whispered to her. "I'm sorry. I wish I didn't have to do this. I wish I could take you home. I wish you could meet Spock. You know, I'd bet he would've let me keep you. We could go trail riding through the cornfields. You'd have all the hay you could eat. I'd get you a pasturemate so you wouldn't have to be alone. I'd keep you forever. And every day, I'd give you a nice, big apple. You'd love that, wouldn't you? I wish I had one to give you right now."

But all he had left to give her was a phaser shot. He felt numb; too numb to cry. An indeterminable amount of time later, he untied her and led her a little ways away. She went docilely, sniffing curiously at the fungus covered trees. He could barely look at her kind eyes as he raised the pistol and pointed it at the white spot. He stood here with his arms shaking, fingers on the trigger, unable to shoot. He couldn't do it. He couldn't. He _had_ to. If things continued as they had, she would die anyway, slowly, and in pain. She'd suffered so much already. He closed his eyes, and pulled the trigger.

Bang.

Sophie dropped to the ground, and he turned away, unable to look. He heard footsteps approaching, but he ignored them, opting to go a little further into the woods instead. He did not rejoin the others for several hours. No one came looking for him, understanding his need to process this alone. He barely noticed the smell, the rain, the hunger, anything. All he felt was the cold, numb feeling inside that was beyond even tears.

Maybe he'd never make it off this planet. But if, by some miracle, he did, then every time he ate an apple, he would think of Sophie, and the choice he had to make. And every time, he would swear he'd find a way to beat the no win scenario. He'd never ever let himself get in this situation again. He would beat the odds. For now, all he could do was grieve.

* * *

I promise we will be done with the worst of it soon! This is the darkest part of the series. I'm surprised I dragged it out this long, to be honest. It's not really my style. Hope you all liked it anyway! :)


	9. Genocide

A/N: Thank you bmars.312010, Lina03, Tishbing, seacat03, acacia59601, K Ernst, Rindou Kiara, foxeeflame, zeynel, RachelVille, and CountryGirl92 for reviewing! If you sign in, I can reply. :)

* * *

Genocide

When Jim wandered back to the camp that night, he felt rather strange. Yes, he was nauseated, dizzy, cold, hungry, and in some pain, but it was something other than that; like a rushing feeling in his head. The closest comparison he could think of was when he had an adrenaline rush and needed to escape. But, he wasn't running. He was hiding. It made no sense. In an odd sort of way, it felt soothing, so he decided not to worry about it.

Karen asked if he was ok as he settled under his blanket, but other than that, they left him alone, for which he was grateful. He just wanted to lie there quietly and pretend he was somewhere else, like in his room at Spock's house. There was a nice thought. If only. If only, he could at least sleep, which seemed impossible. The rushing increased.

He blacked out.

_Spock sat next to him on his bed, reading his letter to him. Jim drank in the welcome sight of home, and the familiar, precise cadence of his dad's voice. When Spock arrived at the part where he told him he believed in him, he stopped reading from the paper and looked him in the eye, reciting the rest by memory. Jim reached out to hug him…_

But instead, he woke up under his waterproof blanket. It'd just been a dream. The reality was, Sophie was dead, he was a fugitive from the local government which planned a genocide, he had nothing to eat, and it was more unlikely by the day that he'd ever see Spock again. He peeked out from under his blanket, needing to see that he, at least, wasn't completely alone.

"Oh, you're awake." He recognized Karen's voice, but could barely see her in the darkness. It was still early morning. "Mr. Leighton decided to go to town to try to find out what happened to Hoshi. All of us agree that she should have come back by now."

"Okay," said Jim miserably.

"If he can manage it, he'll bring back rations for you. We know you don't want what we've got."

"Thanks." Jim gave her a small smile.

Mr. Leighton came back an hour later with news and a few things for Jim to eat which he'd stolen from Hoshi's refrigerator. He didn't think she'd mind. "I couldn't find Hoshi. But there seems to be people starting to gather at the town square for an announcement. It's to be made in a half hour according to what I saw on a flyer. I think we should go and see what it is."

"Won't that be too dangerous?" questioned Mr. Riley.

"All of Kodos' men appear to be in the square itself. They won't see us if we stay far enough away. I think we should all be together so we can act if a quick decision needs to be made. It's up to us to warn them now."

"But what about the mines he planted?" asked Karen fearfully. She wanted to help, to warn them, but it wasn't easy.

"We won't have to go in the city. I saw some loudspeakers that he must have set up for the occasion. And I nabbed some telescopes from the house for us all to use. I don't think anyone from outside is allowed in anyway. There's new 'Do Not Enter – Martial Law in Effect' signs posted on the roads. After the speech, we can decide what to do and how sneak in to warn everyone."

Everyone agreed, so they packed up and moved out of the woods. What a relief it was to breathe fresh air again! They split into small groups and arranged a place to meet. Since it was still very early, no one was out and about yet outside the city. They must not have gotten the flyer about the speech. The fugitives just barely got in position before the half hour was up. They sat on the roof of a vacant house just beyond the city limit that gave them a direct line of sight to the town square.

Jim fiddled with the telescope, getting it to focus. Though he feared what Kodos would say, he was less interested in the speech and more interested in finding his mother and Hoshi. Unfortunately, with all the people gathered, it was nearly impossible.

He refocused on the stand, where a man with red hair, a receding hairline, a red mustache and a beard stood, adjusting his microphone. A newly built fence surrounded it. On the inside, he recognized most of Kodos' men. Then the governor began to speak. "Hours ago, Starfleet officers attempted a coup, in violation of their agreement to allow the colony to be self-governing. We fought a hard battle. All Starfleet officers are now in prison, awaiting trial. Martial law is now in effect." His voice was cold, deep, chilling. Jim didn't think he'd ever forget it.

"The revolution is successful. But survival depends on drastic measures. Your continued existence represents a threat to the well-being of society. Your lives mean slow death to the more valued members of the colony. Therefore, I have no alternative but to sentence you to death. Your execution is so ordered, signed Kodos, Governor of Tarsus IV." His speech ended. He could not have carried on anyway. Shouts erupted in the crowd. One of Kodos' men, who Jim recognized as the one he'd almost gotten grabbed by, took the stand, and with great difficulty, revealed the presence of the mines and the choice they had to make. The crowd started to climb the fence to get to their executioners, obviously to attack. Kodos and his men opened fire.

"We have to do something," said Jim, dropping his telescope, unable to watch anymore. "Where is the prison? Maybe we can free the Starfleet officers, and – "

"Jimmy…" started Karen, sounding very reluctant, close to tears. "I hate to say this, but there isn't a prison big enough to hold them all. The prison is only big enough to hold a few temporarily until a ship comes to pick them up. I can't say for sure, but it's likely they were executed."

_No._ No, it couldn't be -

"Give me your phaser," Mr. Leighton cut in. Jim handed it over obediently.

Mr. Leighton opened it up and began making adjustments. "From this distance, I can only stun them a little. But I think I can modify the beam to reach that far."

With a sense of unreality, Jim watched him work. His mom might be dead? Hoshi too? And all those people. This just couldn't be happening.

The man finished his work, carefully aimed, and fired. "Got one! It startled all of them. They have no idea where it came from!" He took some more shots. "I haven't knocked them unconscious, but I am slowing them down a – what the hell?"

With everyone distracted by whatever they'd seen, Jim carefully shimmied down from the roof. He wasn't quite sure what he could do, but he couldn't just sit there. What did he have left to lose? He headed for town, his head buzzing.

A strong hand clamped over his mouth, and a second one settled firmly on his chest, pushing him up against a body behind him. Jim froze in terror. Did Kodos station some of his men there? Was he caught?

"Do not scream," whispered a _very_ family voice in his ear. "That, along with what you are currently doing, is very unwise."

In his shock, he couldn't quite place the voice right away. That strange rushing in his head drowned everything else out. Then it clicked. _Spock._

Spock, sensing Jim's understanding, let him go. Jim spun around and hugged his dad's middle with all the strength he had and started crying uncontrollably. Spock gently laid a hand on the side of his face, and then took out his communicator with the other hand. "Solkar. I have found James Kirk. When you have finished beaming people to safety, beam us up. He is in need of medical attention."

"Acknowledged," replied a flat, unemotional voice.

Spock cut the connection and returned his attention to his distraught son. Carefully, he directed him to sit, which was difficult, since Jim refused to let go of him. "Jim, I am so sorry. I did not know she would take you here. When the two weeks ended, I did everything in my power to locate you. I arrived here as soon as I could." Jim was still crying too hard to respond.

Mr. Riley approached them. "Oh good," he said, extremely relieved. "We noticed Jimmy was gone, so I volunteered to go after him." Then he blinked. "Mr. _Spock_?"

"Mr. Riley," Spock acknowledged. "When Jim did not return, I tracked down his whereabouts. Due to Jim's dual Federation and Vulcan citizenship, the Vulcan Ambassador agreed to help. He lent me a ship that is currently in orbit. On the way, we intercepted Hoshi's message, which we forwarded to Starfleet. They should be arriving shortly."

"Oh, my god," said Mr. Riley in relief. "You – you have no idea how grateful I – how grateful we _all_ are." He looked close to tears himself. "We just saw people start to disappear. Was that you?"

"Yes. Upon ascertaining the violence being done to a crowd of innocent people, we began beaming them to safety. Prior to that, we disabled a ship in orbit piloted by the terrorist group, the Symmetrists. They are now awaiting Starfleet's arrival. We believe they are connected to what is happening here."

"I – wow. You mean, they had something to do with the famine that broke out?"

"It is possible," said Spock. Of course, he _knew_ they were, knew the whole story; that they were how Kodos had originally escaped. But, no one could know that he knew.

"I should tell the others," realized Mr. Riley, horrified. He got back up and left.

Jim finally managed to control himself enough to speak. "I didn't think you'd – you'd come. I thought you'd leave it to – to- "

"Jim, it is my honor, and duty, to look after your well-being. It is not something I will leave to chance or allow others to do for me."

"I want you to take me home," Jim pleaded.

"I will," promised Spock. "When Starfleet arrives, we will depart. Until then, we must make sure the situation is under control."

"I know. I'm just, so scared," said Jim.

Spock stroked him soothingly. "I will not leave," he promised.

After several minutes, his communicator chirped. "Selek. I have beamed all survivors out of harm's way. The remaining have been stunned per your request. The transporter is ready for you."

"Very well, Solkar," Spock acknowledged. He picked Jim up, who'd all but collapsed against him. "Beam us up."

They rematerialized in a Vulcan ship. Solkar, a tall, intimidating male Vulcan, immediately began to speak. "Now that you are on the ship, I will beam down and ascertain the status of the colony. If I need your assistance, I will request that you land."

"Very well. Keep me apprised," agreed Spock, stepping off the small pad with Jim in tow. He beamed Solkar down along with a large container of food from the replicator. Spock carried Jim to his room and set him down. Jim refused to let go. "I will be back momentarily," Spock assured him, his heart breaking at Jim's distress. Jim reluctantly released him, curling into himself.

Spock entered an adjoining room and picked up a mobile holographic emitter he'd built. Dr. McCoy had, unfortunately, been unable to get away at such short notice. Spock could not delay, but could not leave without a doctor either. His only choice was to bring the EMH program modeled after Louis Zimmerman he'd kept in the Jellyfish for study. This particular program had the same basic prototype as the one on Voyager that had, debatably, gained sentience. It fascinated the scientist in him, so he'd requested it for his ship. However, he'd never had reason nor the time to interact with it before now. It was a risk, but he believed that if he was careful, no one would realize the doctor was, in fact, a hologram. It was his only option. He'd already modified the doctor's clothing so he appeared to be from a private practice, rather than Starfleet.

He activated it.

"Please state the nature of the medical emergency," said the doctor, stepping forward smartly.

Spock brought his finger to his lips in a "hush" gesture.

"This is a medical bay, not a library. Why are we _whispering?_ And just what kind of med bay is this anyway?" He gestured at the obvious lack of medical equipment.

"Doctor," said Spock. "I have much to explain, and little time to say it, so you must listen carefully. We have traveled over one hundred years into the past. We are now in orbit of Tarsus IV, where the famine has just occurred. There are no such things as holographic programs. They must not find out you are one. We must follow the Temporal Prime Directive."

"Oh, not _that_ again. I mean, not that I know anything about that," the doctor corrected himself.

Spock raised an eyebrow. Then he frowned. "You are not the original prototype I requested. You are the Doctor who traveled on Voyager."

"Well, I suppose it doesn't matter now. It figures. My first great espionage mission ends in _time travel_. You see, Mr. Spock, Section 31 approached me with a mission. Me! The first holographic agent in their organization! Ah, the glory, the wonder. The excitement. They wanted a spy on Romulus, especially with your unification efforts. When you wanted my prototype program, they took the opportunity to plant me instead. I was to gather intel for them, and when you returned, they would switch me with the prototype and you would be none the wiser. But of course, things didn't turn _out_ that way. Last thing I knew, we were being sucked into that black hole. And now I'm stuck _here_, a hundred years in the past, my first mission a failure of epic proportions." He crossed his arms, looking very put out.

Spock was one of the few outside of Section 31 who knew about the organization. It didn't surprise him that they would do something like that. Their ethical standards left much to be desired. He did not blame the Doctor, however; it was unlikely he realized their true nature. This was rather tame by Section 31's standards, and they had more important things to focus on. "I see," Spock replied mildly. "Right now, I need your help with the situation on the planet. My adopted son, Jim, and the colonists of Tarsus IV have suffered the effects of starvation. Some of them were the targets of a mass genocide that we managed to halt. They need medical attention."

"I'll get started right away! And give me some proper medical equipment, will you?"

"Very well," agreed Spock. "We need to give you a name. How does Dr. Robert Picardo sound?"

"It's not what I would have picked, but, it'll do," Dr. Picardo agreed brusquely.

The doctor examined and treated Jim, and then was beamed down with a med kit to help the colonists. Solkar accepted his presence with merely a raised eyebrow. Sarek had instructed him to keep anything strange he noticed about Selek completely confidential. His loyalty to Sarek ensured his obedience, but in the privacy of his own mind, he did wonder. There had been quite a few curious things he'd noticed during his journey. There was more to Selek than what met the eye.

Still aboard the ship, Spock sat back down next to Jim and put his arm around him. According to the doctor, Jim was suffering from starvation and the effects of breathing in fungus, but, he would recover.

"Do you know what happened to my mom and Hoshi?" Jim asked quietly minutes later.

"Are you referring to Hoshi Sato?" It sparked a memory. Yes, she was the former communications officer who'd died on Tarsus IV in his universe.

"Yeah."

"I will ask Solkar. He is currently handing out food from the replicator and determining the status of the colony, along with Dr. Picardo." With Jim's highly emotional state, he was unsure of how many details he'd been taking in. Spock picked up his communicator. "Solkar. Have you located a Winona Kirk or Hoshi Sato?"

"Selek," Solkar acknowledged. "Please wait while I consult the list of survivors." Several seconds passed. Jim scarcely breathed. "Winona Kirk was found in the prison. She is suffering from acute starvation, but is expected to completely recover. Hoshi Sato has not been located yet. We still have not questioned everyone."

"Acknowledged. Keep me apprised." Spock closed the communicator.

Jim had never heard him speak to another Vulcan before. He was struck by how starkly different he was with Solkar than he was with him. It made it more obvious how _warmly_ he spoke to him. "I love you dad," he said quietly.

"I love you too, Jim," Spock replied. They sat in companionable silence for a long time.

"How did you find me?" Jim whispered.

Spock gathered his thoughts. "When you did not return, I contacted Starfleet. However, they were less than cooperative. I sensed distress from you through the link, so I contacted Ambassador Sarek. Because you are also a Vulcan citizen, your well-being fell under his jurisdiction." It was an omission of the rest of the facts, not a lie.

"I'm a Vulcan citizen?" asked Jim in confusion.

"I applied to have you recognized as a citizen when I adopted you. When I created a link with you, it made your eligibility official. Mental links are essential to Vulcans, as are those whom they are linked with. Forming such bonds usually makes one's partner or child a citizen automatically."

"Oh. I don't remember you telling me this before."

"It was not relevant."

Jim glanced at him in confusion. Spock acted like he was making some kind of joke, but he didn't get it.

"As I was saying, because of the commonly recognized nature of mind links, Sarek understood my concerns. He used his influence to gather the relevant facts from Starfleet. Then, he gave me his fastest ship, along with the services of one of his best aides. We came as fast as we could."

Spock presented it like it was all very routine. Yet, Jim still couldn't help but think it was odd. It just didn't seem _normal _for an Ambassador to get involved with something like this. Maybe if he was someone important, but Jim was just a farmboy from Iowa. Who was he to Sarek?

Or, maybe it was just Spock. That made more sense. Spock had been a spy or something on a ship. Maybe he'd formed a relationship with the Ambassador that way and was a man of more influence than he showed.

Before he could ask about it, Spock's communicator chirped again. "Selek here," he answered.

"You requested status updates," said Solkar. "We have accounted for all currently enlisted Starfleet personnel. Most were killed by Kodos after the alleged coup. Winona Kirk is one of the few who survived. Due to her emotional instability, I do not believe we can depend on her testimony. Further investigation must be made to determine the true course of events."

"What is the status of the colonists?"

"Five hundred and twelve colonists were killed, with twenty in critical condition. Dr. Picardo is tending them now. However, there are nine still unaccounted for, including Hoshi Sato. Kodos and his men were stunned per your orders and placed in prison cells. However, there were not enough for all of them, so we were forced to use more crude means to restrain the rest, such as tying them to chairs. The Symmestrist ship is still disabled. I will apprise Starfleet of this information."

"Acknowledged. Selek out."

Jim frowned. "How are you able to use communicators? It took Hoshi days to get a signal through."

"The Symmetrist ship was jamming all signals and disrupting many technological devices. It was easy for them to stay hidden in the thick clouds; however, if the sky cleared, they were most likely forced to retreat. Am I correct in assuming that is when you succeeded?"

"Yeah," said Jim, remembering the sun coming out, days ago. "Why would they do that?"

Spock did not want to burden Jim with the horrors of the Symmetrists, especially after what he'd just endured; the details of which Jim had not even shared with him yet.

"Are they like Kodos? Do they believe in eugenics?" Jim continued.

"It is more complicated than that," Spock answered vaguely. "You need rest. Do you wish to have a sleep suggestion?"

"Was that you last night?" Jim asked, remembering the abrupt way he'd fallen asleep.

"Yes. The closer I came, the more details I could ascertain. You wanted to sleep, but couldn't."

"Thanks." Spock was clearly waiting for a response, so he added, "Yeah, I'd like another one. Just, don't go, okay?"

Spock felt he really should be down there, helping with the colony. Yet, he was not a doctor. He knew Dr. Picardo was the most capable doctor in existence right now to help them. Solkar appeared to have things well in hand. If he needed help, he would have requested it. Vulcans, unlike some humans, would not have hesitated to do so. The healthier colonists must be providing sufficient assistance. Jim, on the other hand, had no one to look after him except himself. "I will not." He laid a gentle hand on Jim's face, and he passed out.


	10. Departed

A/N: Thank you Tishbing, bmars312010, awed, seacat03, Rindou Kiara, zeynel, and Constance Truggle for reviewing!

* * *

Departed

That evening, Spock finally received the call he'd been waiting for.

"Starfleet has arrived. I have apprised Captain April of the colony's status. The Enterprise is taking over the investigation, incarceration, and rehabilitation efforts. Do you wish to depart?" asked Solkar.

"Very well," answered Spock quietly. Jim still slept at his side. "I will beam you and Dr. Picardo up. Prepare for transport."

He gently laid Jim on the bed and went to the transporter room. Solkar and Dr. Picardo appeared moments later.

"I have requested that Starfleet keep us informed on any news regarding Winona Kirk and Hoshi Sato," Solkar informed him. "We are cleared to depart."

"Very good," said Spock, pleased. No wonder Sarek considered him to be his best aide. He did not need to be asked to do things and anticipated their needs. He'd handled the whole situation with admirable competency. "Dr. Picardo, if you would join me?"

"Of course. Solkar," the doctor nodded to the aide in acknowledgement as he followed Spock to a private room. Solkar left for their small bridge and began the necessary procedures to pilot them home.

"Any trouble?" asked Spock when he was alone with the doctor.

"It started to rain," he said. "It was a close call. I had to run inside before everyone wondered why I wasn't getting wet. I covered myself by insisting that everyone move inside for their own health. Other than that, nobody seemed to notice anything strange."

"Good." They heard the engines roar to life as they entered warp.

Dr. Picardo leaned forward conspiratorially, lowering his voice even though they were alone. "Well, now that everything is settled here, why don't we get going? You must still have your ship, don't you? Otherwise I wouldn't be here."

"To what are you referring?"

"Well, we're not going to _stay_ here, are we? I mean, we don't belong! We have lives to get back to." He gestured emphatically.

"If you are suggesting that I can transport us back to our own reality, the answer is no. I cannot."

"What do you _mean,_ you _cannot?_ I thought it was simple. Slingshot around the sun, right?" The doctor folded his arms.

"I'm afraid that would not work in the way you think. While the slingshot would, indeed, transport us to the future, it would not be a future either of us recognizes. Nero has irrevocably changed this universe through his violation of the Temporal Prime Directive. There is no telling what we would find, were we to attempt to leave. In addition, because of Nero's existence, I have responsibilities here that I cannot abandon. Our best chance to regain the future we know is to attempt to fix what Nero destroyed. You will live to see that future. I will not."

"We really are stuck here?" the doctor said in disbelief.

"Yes. Therefore, you must decide what you wish to do. Attempting to pass as human would be very risky. If you wish, I can put your program back into my ship's computer and periodically update you with the current events. If, instead, you do wish to take the risk of pretending to be human, Sarek and I can give you a false identity, as he did for me, and get you started in a new life."

"Do I have to give my answer right now?" the doctor asked, looking torn.

"No. At the very least, I would like you to give Dr. McCoy your report on Jim's condition. After that, however, you need to come to a decision."

"I see," contemplated the doctor. "This Jim. He isn't Captain James T. Kirk?"

"Indeed, he is," confirmed Spock.

"Ah. Well, that explains _that_. I was wondering what you were doing with a human child. And this Dr. McCoy must be Leonard H. McCoy."

"That is correct."

"Well. I look forward to meeting him."

"I have sent him a message. He will meet us as soon as we land. In the meantime, I suggest you read up the history of the past decade. There have been some differences from what you know."

"I'll get started right away! And make sure Jim eats something. But not too much. We need to get him slowly acclimated to eating again."

"Understood."

The journey to Earth was quiet and uneventful. They received no further news about Hoshi or Winona. Jim didn't know how he felt about what happened to his mom. He didn't want her to die, and in a way, he was relieved. Yet, selfishly, it added to his turmoil. What would happen with her now? Would Starfleet, even after all of this, still allow her custody of him? He did not share any of his thoughts with Spock or Dr. Picardo, though they both tried to draw him out. Jim didn't feel like thinking about it. It was bad enough that Tarsus replayed in his mind every waking moment like a horror movie. When he had a nightmare, he sat with Spock quietly until the worst of the terror passed.

Once they were within range, Jim contacted his friends and told them he was all right. They didn't know he was at Tarsus or anything that happened. He just told them the bare facts, and that he was on his way home. They updated him on everything that happened there and invited him to go out with them to an amusement park next month. Jim vaguely said he would ask Spock.

When they arrived at Earth, Solkar landed them with deft precision at the Vulcan Embassy. As promised, Dr. McCoy was waiting for them.

"Hey, old man," McCoy said, clapping Spock on the shoulder. "Solkar." He nodded to the solemn Vulcan, who gave a stiff nod back. "Jim! Kid, it's great to have you back!" He gave Jim a hug. Then he turned to the fourth member of the crew. "Dr. McCoy," he introduced himself, reaching out his hand.

"Dr. Robert Picardo. Nice to meet you," the hologram answered.

"I didn't know Spock brought you along," said McCoy.

Solkar raised an eyebrow and looked… less impassive.

"It's a nickname," Spock explained to Solkar. "It is a human thing." It did not seem to ease Solkar's curious expression much, however.

"Well, it was very last minute," said Picardo. "I barely knew I was going myself!"

"What kind of doctor are you anyway?" asked McCoy suspiciously. Spock had never spoken of him, and he wasn't wearing a Starfleet uniform. He hadn't just picked him up off the street, had he?

"Well, I'm retired. I just came along as a favor to Spock! If we can go somewhere more private, I can give you a full report on Jim's condition," Picardo said hurriedly, trying to redirect him.

Solkar gestured forward. "There are private rooms on the second level. Follow me."

Solkar and Picardo went on ahead. McCoy lagged behind with Spock and Jim. "There's something _wrong_ with that guy! I just can't put my finger on what it is!"

No wonder McCoy was such a good doctor. He must have realized, on some level, that Picardo wasn't human. "Dr. Picardo is very unique," Spock said vaguely.

"Anyway. I know this might not be the best time, but, Jocelyn and I are engaged to be married!" said McCoy, his face breaking into a grin.

"Congratulations, doctor," said Spock evenly. Jim managed to smile at him.

McCoy poked Spock. "You sure know how to spook a guy. I almost didn't ask. As it is, I'm getting a pre-nup."

They arrived on the second floor, halting further conversation. Picardo, McCoy, and Spock had a meeting in one room, leaving Solkar and Jim in another.

"Your adopted father has many interesting idiosyncrasies," commented Solkar conversationally as they sat and waited.

Jim wondered if this was Vulcan for, "Your dad is weird." He shrugged.

"I am unfamiliar with that human gesture," Solkar stated.

"Uh, it means, well, it can mean different things. Like, I don't know. Or, your guess is as good as mine. Or, what can you do?"

"Uncertainty and tacit agreement," Solkar interpreted.

"Yeah," agreed Jim. Close enough. "It's called a shrug."

"Shrug. Interesting."

"Why do you think my dad has interesting idio- whatever?" Jim asked curiously after a minute of silence. What had Solkar seen?

"I observed many curiosities during my time with him. I merely wondered if you had any insight."

"Not really. He's pretty secretive about his past."

"Indeed."

Huh. For how intimidating he looked, Solkar was surprisingly easy to chat with. He loved Spock dearly, but it was nice to talk to someone who wasn't interested in getting him to open up about Tarsus. "What made you decide to become the Ambassador's aide?" he ventured, now that there were on the subject of the past.

"For reasons of a personal nature, my family is indebted to Ambassador Sarek and his family. I was named for his grandfather, in fact. Additionally," and he hesitated a little, "I find humans to be … interesting."

"Oh," said Jim. He guessed that would make sense for a guy named after the Vulcan who had discovered humans in the first place.

Meanwhile, Spock and the doctors had just finished discussing Jim's mental, emotional, and physical health.

"There is one more matter to discuss," said Spock, with a meaningful glance at Picardo. "Go ahead and tell him, doctor. He knows about where I'm from."

"I see. Well, you should know that I'm not human," started Picardo reluctantly. He wasn't ashamed of being a hologram, precisely, but humans did tend to act differently after learning he was one.

"I knew it!" said McCoy. "What are you, then? Betazoid or something?"

"No. I'm a hologram. I come from the same time as Spock here. He stored me on his ship. I'm wearing a mobile emitter so I can go wherever I want." He tapped it.

"_What?_ Are _all_ doctors holograms in the future?" McCoy asked in outrage, directing his question to Spock.

"I'm standing right here!" Picardo cut in, exasperated. "_We_ are only used in emergencies. Except for me. It's a long story."

"Good." McCoy raked his hand through his hair in relief.

"What's_ that_ supposed to mean? I am perfectly capable of giving high quality medical treatment!"

"You're a goddam computer! It's like having a Vulcan do psychotherapy! Or asking a Tellarite to quiet a crying baby! It ain't natural!"

"I'm perfectly capable of empathizing with my patients! I do have _feelings_, you know," Picardo said, folding his arms and looking very put out. "This is like the beginning of my time on Voyager all over again!"

"Voyager?" McCoy frowned in confusion.

"I suppose now would be a good time to stop talking," Picardo mused, contrite.

Spock watched the exchange with no little amusement. He'd wondered, a time or two, what it would be like for them to meet. "More to the point. It you could keep quiet about him, that would be best. He hasn't decided whether he wishes to be stored until later or not."

"Can do," McCoy grumbled. "Human holograms. What is this world coming to? Next you'll be telling me that people live in holographic environments!"

Spock wisely kept his mouth shut. "We should get back to Jim."

"And I'm going to do my _own_ examination of him," said McCoy.

Picardo rolled his eyes. The things he put up with! The people from _his_ time held holograms in much higher regard! "As you wish," he said, insinuating he was being overly generous.

"Doctor, it is my recommendation that we deactivate you for the remaining journey. I will make your excuses," promised Spock before they could argue further.

"Very well," Picardo agreed. "Just reactivate me now and again, would you?"

"Agreed." Spock reached for his mobile emitter, deactivated him, and then pocketed it. McCoy watched the whole thing with a grumpy expression. They rejoined Jim, and said goodbye to Solkar. Dr. McCoy completed his examination and was very disgruntled to agree with Dr. Picardo's treatment and diagnosis. "But I'm still not buying the holographic doctor idea!" he hissed to Spock before he left.

Spock and Jim beamed home. Jim immediately went to his bedroom and collapsed on the bed. It felt unbelievably good to be back here. Yet, he still felt deeply shaken. It had so quickly and easily been taken away from him. What if it happened again? He wished Sophie was here. What happened to Hoshi? What was going to happen with his mother?

Spock appeared in his doorway. "Everything all right, Jim?" He could feel Jim's turmoil through the link. Both doctors were quite concerned about how withdrawn Jim was, especially considering how outgoing he was supposed to be by nature. They all agreed that it would be best if Spock first tried to help him process what had happened before taking further action.

"I'm fine," he said dully.

"'Fine' has variable definitions," Spock pointed out, humor in his tone. Jim glanced at him, the joke lost on him. "If you need to talk to me, I am available. Day or night. There is nothing so important that I cannot be interrupted to help you."

"Ok," said Jim. He should feel comforted by this, and in a way, he was. It was strange; he thought that when he'd come home, he'd feel better, that he could just leave Tarsus behind. But the reality of the genocide, shooting his starving horse, the starvation of the colony, on top of everything else, still replayed relentlessly in his mind.

"You are not alone," Spock insisted. Then he decided to drop it. Jim had just returned home. He'd give him a little time to readjust, and then try again. "Would you like to have your friends over? They are eager to see you." Perhaps time with his friends would comfort him. He knew that as his parent figure, Jim still had mixed feelings about him.

"Not really," said Jim, surprising him. He would comm them, but he just couldn't face them yet.

"Very well. If there is something you want, please ask for it. I will be meditating." He'd forgone the practice in the last few days, and he badly needed it.

A couple days passed. Jim continued to refuse to talk about what happened, and mostly spent his time reading his books. Spock restored Dr. Picardo to the Jellyfish. They decided to shut down his program for the time being and store him there.

Then, Starfleet sent a social worker to talk to them, but they would not go into detail beforehand regarding the reason for her visit. Spock welcomed her in, and sat on the couch with Jim while the social worker took the chair. She introduced herself as Judi Keeler.

"Well, I know you're both wondering why I'm here." Judi smiled tightly. This would not be an easy visit. "First of all, your mother has been discharged from Starfleet. All surviving personnel were required to go through extensive evaluations. They had all suffered trauma, of course, but the doctors determined that many of her problems were preexisting, most likely for some time. They had not been caught before because the examinations for the short assignments she took are a lot less rigorous than the ones for the deep space missions. She is no longer fit for active duty. Her role in the coup is also unclear, and we don't believe her testimony is reliable. We have made the decision to commit her to a rehabilitation facility for the foreseeable future. That, of course, means that she has lost all custody of you, Jim. You, Selek, now have full custody. In fact, Starfleet has been most impressed by your diligence, Selek. Without it, the tragedy of Tarsus may have been far, far worse."

Spock looked at Jim. He could feel on some level that he was relieved at the news, but he still seemed largely unhappy. It seemed that was but a 'drop in the bucket' of whatever was troubling him.

"Your house was ransacked, but we did recover some items that will be shipped here in the next few days." The social worker gathered herself again. "Ambassador Sarek's aide, Solkar, also made us aware that you would like to know what happened to Hoshi."

Jim turned to her tensely, attention riveted.

"We finally tracked down what happened. I'm afraid to say she didn't make it. I'm sorry."

Jim's face screwed up in pain, and he left the room.

"I do not yet know what happened," Spock told her, stricken. "He must have bonded with her during his time there."

"You should put him in therapy too, if you haven't already," the social worker said sympathetically.

"I will take that under advisement," Spock stated. "I need to be there for him. Is there anything else you wish to discuss?"

"No, I'll let you talk to him. But think about it. That was a really traumatic thing to happen to a boy that age, especially with everything that's happened to him already."

"I will," Spock promised.

"Good luck," she said. "The funeral is to be held tomorrow at Starfleet Headquarters in San Francisco." With that, she walked out the door.

Spock hurried to Jim's room, but the door was shut. "May I come in?" He heard nothing, which concerned him, so he opened the door and entered. Jim lay on the bed, crying silently. Spock laid a gentle hand on him. "I am sorry, Jim." He sat down next to him, and waited for his sobs to ease.

Finally, Jim spoke. "I don't want to _feel_ anymore. Vulcans – file away their emotions, don't they?" Jim asked, his voice cracking. "I want to learn how."

"Jim," Spock said softly. "I struggled for emotional balance for years. Emotions are, at times, inconvenient, or even agonizing, but they make us human. I know it is difficult, but you must learn to accept them."

"I don't want to. I want to learn how Vulcans do it. Don't you think I could learn?" Jim asked.

If the situation weren't so dire, Spock would have been hard pressed to keep a straight face. Kirk Prime had once attempted Vulcan disciplines just for the challenge. It had been a failure of epic proportions. Spock believed Jim could do anything he set his mind to, but that did not include shutting down integral parts of himself. Yet, there were programs on Vulcan that might prove beneficial to Jim's need to process and recover from what happened. Maybe this would be for the best. "It is a possibility. I will look into what Vulcan might have to offer. Hoshi's funeral is tomorrow. If you wish, we will go, and then I will see about making arrangements for you."

"Ok," agreed Jim.

Spock sensed he still had a question. "If there is something you wish to say, do not be afraid to tell me."

Jim bit his lip uncertainly. "Why don't you teach me? You really helped me with the self-defense. It came in handy."

Spock did not like to think of why the self-defense had come in handy. But, that was not relevant to his question. "I cannot help you learn because, from the Vulcan point of view, I am emotionally compromised towards you. It would be likened to the Earth idiom, the blind leading the blind."

"Oh," Jim replied.

"Do not concern yourself. I will find something suitable for you."

The next day, they attended Hoshi's service. A very large crowd of people attended. Spock recognized many people. Afterward, people came up to the stand to tell stories about her. T'Pol and Admiral Archer told the most. Jim blankly thought that, for not being into the "mushy friendship thing," T'Pol's words about her were markedly warm.

During the reception, Admiral Archer approached Jim. "Hey, son. You're James Kirk, right?"

"Yeah," said Jim shyly, keeping close to Spock. Admiral Archer was a legend. He couldn't believe he'd approached him.

"I'm told you were the last one to talk to her. Can you tell me something about her final days? I regret not being there for her."

Spock glanced at Jim, wondering what he would say. As of yet, he'd still said nothing about what had happened.

"She was really determined to save the colony. She spent days rigging the comm so that we could send a signal out. And in the end, she decided that she was the one who should try to warn everybody, despite how dangerous it was. She was a – a _hero._" Jim's voice cracked, and he looked away.

Archer, for his part, looked really grieved himself. T'Pol had come up behind him during the conversation and listened impassively. "She will be missed by many people," she intoned, and the slight tremor in her voice suggested she was one of them.

Despite the graveness of the situation, Spock found himself intrigued with the opportunity to talk to T'Pol. He'd never gotten an opportunity during his younger days. "I grieve with thee," said Spock.

"It is appreciated," she said. "I find myself needing to regain perspective. When I return to Vulcan, I will perform the tal t'lee."

Spock started at that. This would be perfect. "Would you accept Jim for this ritual as well?"

"We do not normally accept humans," she said. "However, due to the circumstances, I will make an exception."

"Tal t'lee?" questioned Archer, mispronouncing it.

T'Pol did not correct him. "It is a Vulcan ritual where a Vulcan elder guides young Vulcans to greater emotional control through meditation. I find the teaching process to be as much of a learning process for me as it is for the children."

"Oh, well. As for me, I'm taking a little R&R. Spend more time with the dogs. Excuse me, I just saw someone who I need to talk to." With that, Archer left.

"If you will give me your comm number, I can send you the details," said T'Pol. They exchanged information. Jim still didn't quite understand what they were talking about, but he trusted Spock, and the idea of learning from someone who'd been a close acquaintance of Hoshi gave him confidence.

Spock turned to go, but someone ran smack into him.

"Oh, eh, excuse me sir," said a _very_ familiar voice with a Scottish accent. "I shoulda looked where I was goin'!"

"Montgomery Scott?" said Spock in disbelief.

"Oh, uh, hello. Have we met?" Scotty asked awkwardly. He drank rather often, so it was possible he'd met him after having one too many and didn't remember it. God, he hoped he hadn't puked on him or something!

"We have not. However, I hear you are one of the top engineering students at Starfleet."

"Oh, well, they're exaggeratin' if you don't mind me saying sir," Scotty said modestly. He'd never talked much to Vulcans before. He had nothing against them; they just didn't tend to run with his kind of crowd. What to say? "Well, it's a shame about Sato, isn't it? I grew up with the crew of the Enterprise as my heroes. I plan on serving on that ship someday, yanno?" Great, now he was running his mouth. Well, he was on Earth, what did the Vulcan expect?

"I expect you shall," said Spock, to Scotty's surprise. "Best of luck, Mr. Scott."

"Thank you, sir. And you too, laddie!" he added to Jim, before they parted ways. Well, that hadn't been so bad. Maybe he'd try to talk to Vulcans more often.

Spock, for his part, was cheered by meeting his old friend. While his relationship with Scotty had never rivaled the one he had with Kirk Prime or even McCoy, they had always got along well and had strong ties of loyalty. He hoped he'd get the chance to talk to him again sometime.

However, he could feel that Jim was reaching the end of his rope. He made his goodbyes and transported them home. Jim immediately went to his room. Spock checked his padd, and noted that T'Pol had already sent him the time and place of the ritual. It was to start next week, and continue for the next two weeks. Jim would be joining twenty other Vulcan children. They could stay in a house nearby for the duration. Spock could only hope that, through the tal t'lee, Jim would find the healing he needed.

* * *

I know you guys didn't want me to kill off Hoshi. Sorry. :( But, I think you've all probably figured out my reasoning. :)


	11. Tal T'lee

A/N: Thank you Tishbing, GabrielsDoubt, zeynel, Lina03, Rindou Kiara, and Shinrax for reviewing!

* * *

Tal T'lee

Jim was quiet on the transport to Vulcan, only perking up slightly in curiosity when they landed. Dr. McCoy had given them a supply of triox compound so that Jim would be more comfortable. Spock gave him an injection before they left the shuttle. He would certainly need it in the heat.

Spock led Jim to their rental, walking slowly so he could take in the sights. He pointed out a few historical buildings he thought might be of interest. However, when they passed the place he and Kirk Prime were bonded, he was completely silent. Instead, he put his arm around Jim's shoulders and gave him one of his small, rare smiles. He felt no romantic inclination towards young Jim whatsoever, but it was still a wonderful feeling to be there with him, when for so many years he thought he never would again.

Spock's overt display of affection gained them some curious glances, but neither of them paid them any heed. Before long, they arrived at their rental. It was a small, one level house with two bedrooms, one bathroom, and the rest an open area kitchen and dining room. Though barer and made of vastly different materials, the layout reminded of the Tarsus house.

Spock noticed Jim's vaguely troubled look. "What is it?"

"It's nothing," Jim answered, shrugging. If he told him, Spock just might find somewhere else to rent. He didn't want him to make that trouble over something so silly. He shouldn't be bothered by this.

Spock frowned but let it go.

They had not brought anything with them. The tal t'lee prohibited the kinds of activities Jim normally partook in, so it would have been pointless. All necessities were at the house. So, there was little to do but change into traditional Vulcan garb and seek out a place to dine.

Spock chose the most informal restaurant he knew of, but it was still more formal than most dining places on Earth. They sat in a booth and picked from the limited options. None of it was anything Jim was familiar with, so Spock selected something Kirk Prime had enjoyed and ordered it for both of them.

"Jim. What do you think of my home planet?" Spock inquired when Jim made no effort at conversation.

"Uh, it's really hot. And quiet," Jim observed. It was very odd to be around so many people, yet hear such little overall noise.

"Indeed," agreed Spock. "I have a traveling chess set in my pocket. Would you like a game?"

They hadn't played in over a month. "Sure," said Jim with a shrug.

The sight of an elder Vulcan playing chess with a human child drew many curious looks. A few openly asked if they could observe. Spock looked to Jim, who shrugged. Spock agreed, and they ended up discussing various chess strategies. Spock taught him a few new ones. Presently, the Vulcans were called away, and Spock and Jim were alone again.

"So you grew up here?" asked Jim. He didn't think he'd get much out of him, but it was worth a shot.

"That is correct," said Spock. "I spent most of my early years here, and returned from time to time in later life."

"Do you miss living here?"

An interesting question. Being on Vulcan had always given him mixed feelings. Yet now, with all the time that passed and the Vulcan he knew now being out of reach, it was easy to remember the positive and not take the negative into account. "My memories of Vulcan are fond. However, I do not regret moving to Earth." He paused. "I believe it is time for us to go home and retire for the night."

Spock was obviously was using that excuse to avoid the subject. If he was hiding something as painful as Tarsus, Jim decided he didn't blame him. But, it did make him a little hypocritical. Why should Jim tell him what happened if Spock wouldn't tell him what happened either?

The next morning, Spock got Jim up at the crack of dawn for the first day of the tal t'lee ritual. Spock had assured him there was no need to be nervous; mostly they just sat around meditating. T'Pol was very familiar with humans and would treat him with patience and understanding.

Still, he felt a little self-conscious when he was greeted by the blank stares of twenty Vulcan children.

"This is James Kirk. He is here by my invitation and will be joining us for the ritual," T'Pol explained. "Mr. Kirk, please take a seat." She gestured to a cushion towards the back.

_Mr. Kirk_. That was different. Normally everyone called him Jim.

"I will pick you up at sundown," Spock informed him. "Ask T'Pol if you need anything. She has triox injections for you if you should feel faint."

"Okay," said Jim. "Bye dad."

"Goodbye, Jim."

Jim watched him leave for a moment, feeling a bit like he was being dropped off for his first ever day of school. Then he slowly walked to his seat, ignoring the continuous stares. He sat down and peeked curiously at the boy next to him, who seemed to be the only one that had barely even given him a cursory glance before closing his eyes. He was a bit taller than the others. Jim wasn't familiar with Vulcans, but he appeared to be the oldest in the group. And there was something familiar about him!

"We shall now begin with the first stage of the tal t'lee," stated T'Pol, mercifully drawing everyone's attention away from him. Jim tore his gaze away from his neighbor and focused on T'Pol, attempting to mimic her sitting position. It was difficult, since he normally didn't sit that way, all still and formal. But, he was determined to try.

"Clear your minds. Center your thoughts on your breathing. When you have mastered that focus, it will be easier to you to identify and isolate different emotions."

Jim didn't quite know what she meant by "Clear your minds." Didn't thoughts just kind of pop up randomly? How was he supposed to clear them out? So he did his best to focus on his breathing, hoping that would be enough.

Ever since Tarsus, he'd done his best to occupy himself with reading or whatever else he could, to try and bury the memories. Now, sitting here idle, he could not escape from them. When he focused on his breathing, he remembered how horrible the fungus smelled. The damp air. The slight burning smell when he'd fired that phaser…

Without realizing it, Jim's breathing sped up until he was almost gasping for breath.

T'Pol noticed his dilemma. She knew Jim would need more attention than the rest. She planned on having the other children, especially young Spock, help him with the easier exercises so she would be more available to the others. "Spock," she said, addressing the Vulcan child next to Jim. "Please assist Jim."

Jim jerked in surprise at the name. _That_ was why he recognized the kid. He was the same one who'd turned down his request to be penpals. Still, that was the least of his concerns right now, as he fought panic.

Spock met his gaze evenly. "Focus on the air moving in and out of your lungs," he stated patiently. "The temperature, the pressure, and the release."

There was no dampness. It was hot and dry here. The air did not smell like much of anything, much less fungus. Jim struggled to focus on that reality, but it was difficult. He clenched his fists, willing his mind to obey him.

"Relax your body," Spock continued. "Begin with the top of your head, and proceed your way down, releasing all the tension."

Jim tried. As he did, he flexed his muscles, trying to get them to relax.

"Be still. You are exerting too much effort. Ease into a meditative state. Do not force it."

Frustration flared up in him. This was so _hard._ Part of him just wanted to wring that impassive look off Spock's face.

"You are starting to gain focus," Spock observed. Kirk's breathing had eased a considerable amount, though his body was still tense. However, he'd learned from his mother that pointing out such things detracted from concentrating properly. "Anger is a higher emotion than fear. Accept your anger. Do not fight it. It will dissipate and you will be able to concentrate properly." That was not the precise Vulcan method, but he was aware that humans did not have the same type of control as Vulcans. This was a modified technique he'd learned that his mother used.

Huh. It was actually starting to work, a little. "Thanks," he said to Spock.

"Thanks is illogical," the Vulcan informed him.

Miffed, but determined, Jim tried to think of a more Vulcan way to express his gratitude. What would Solkar say? "Your method was effective," Jim said awkwardly. It felt weird to say it that way.

"Indeed," agreed Spock.

Jim bit back a laugh. Apparently humility wasn't something Vulcans practiced! Or maybe it was just this one. Spock closed his eyes and went back to meditating. Jim still burned with frustration, but he tried to accept it like Spock said. At least he wasn't panicking so much anymore.

Jim felt like he'd been sitting there forever before T'Pol finally spoke again. "Now that we have established some basic focus, I will meld with each of you to help you gain a deeper level of meditation. T'Meni, you will be first."

A colored Vulcan girl in the front row got up and sat next to T'Pol. T'Pol placed her fingers on T'Meni's face and began murmuring indistinctly.

A mind meld? Jim shifted nervously. His dad had connected with his mind before, but not very deeply. What would it be like? He felt someone looking at him. He turned and saw it was Spock, his eyebrow slightly raised. Apparently he'd noticed Jim's twitching.

"I've never had a full mind meld before," Jim whispered. "My dad has connected with my mind, but not like this."

"You are half Vulcan?" Spock asked skeptically.

"No, I'm adopted."

Spock's expression cleared in understanding. "It is nothing of concern. She merely gives an impression of the techniques to maintain deeper levels of meditation. It is more effective than speaking them."

"Oh," said Jim. Well, that didn't sound so bad. She was going to communicate with him more than read him. He smiled reflexively at Spock in thanks. Spock's eyebrow twitched and he returned to meditating as they waited for their turn.

Spock was the last to go before him. It might have been Jim's nervous anticipation, but it seemed like she took longer with him than the others. Finally he returned to his seat. It was Jim's turn.

Jim slowly strode to the cushion beside T'Pol and perched on it. She raised her eyebrows a little at his tension but did not comment. "Close your eyes and do your best to relax," she instructed.

Jim got the first part, but not the second, so much. T'Pol placed her hand on his face, and the odd buzzing he remembered from his melds with his dad, emanated from her fingertips. T'Pol's presence differed vastly from his dad's. While his dad was affectionate and warm, T'Pol was cool and clinical. Yet, she wasn't completely cold; there was compassion and understanding there, softening her aura.

_You have much to process before you can achieve a deep meditation, especially in regards to Tarsus,_ she stated. _You will not accomplish it today. However, I will still show you our goal._

With that, she impressed upon him something he'd never experienced before: a serene, endless blankness. There was no sense of time, or space; only of quietly, peacefully, being. The wounded part of him lapped it up eagerly; yet, the other half of him railed against it. It was so _passive_. He preferred action.

T'Pol released him from the meld. Jim blinked his eyes open, wondering how much time had passed. "You may return to your seat," the elder Vulcan informed him.

Jim obediently took his seat next to Spock. "You were right. Piece of cake," he whispered to the other boy.

Spock frowned, looking deeply confused. "I fail to see what a portion of an Earth food with questionable nutritional value has to do with meditation."

Jim bit his lips hard to keep from laughing out loud. Doing that seemed wrong here, somehow. "It doesn't. It's an expression. Means it was easy."

Spock stared at him, appearing more confused than ever.

T'Pol saved him from explaining further. "Now we will begin to identify and isolate each emotion. Think through the past month. What emotion was the most difficult to control?"

Which emotion _wasn't_ difficult to control? Reluctantly, Jim thought of the different things he'd felt lately that had particular strength: grief, fear, aloneness, panic, desperation, and anger. It formed this massive ball of turmoil, which, in its totality, was difficult to control, each emotion so intertwined with the next that he couldn't even begin to separate them out.

"Now focus on it. Accept it. Ease it into the next higher emotion. If it is fear, ease it into anger. If it is anger, ease it into frustration. If frustration, transition it to boredom. If you struggle with restlessness and boredom, it is but a small step to peace."

This was _impossible_. He tried to focus on one thing, but each emotion morphed into another in rapid succession. He just wasn't good at this. The times when he'd dealt with his emotions the best were when he would groom Sophie, and he would talk to her quietly about everything, and she'd listen patiently. He'd tried not to think of her since _that_ day, but now, the memory overwhelmed him in its intensity. An emotion he'd desperately attempted to suppress now rose to the surface: regret. If only he'd waited _one_ more day…

Jim crumpled from his meditative position and heaved silent sobs.

"Spock, escort Mr. Kirk outside and assist him," T'Pol requested.

Jim felt a tentative hand on his shoulder. "Come," he heard Spock say. Jim followed him blindly until they were outside the garden walls.

"The emotion you have difficulty controlling is grief," Spock stated, clasping his hands behind his back.

"Yeah," said Jim.

"You are a survivor of Tarsus IV. You grieve for Mrs. Sato?" asked Spock.

"Yeah, and just, everything," Jim confessed.

"That is unfortunate."

Something about Spock's tone made Jim want to laugh through his sobs. "Do you have any pets?"

"I did have a pet sehlat named I-Chaya."

"Did?"

"She was injured while saving my life during my kahs-wan. To ease her suffering, I was forced to end her life."

Despite Spock's impassive face, something about him gave away that the experience with I-Chaya had wounded him just as much as shooting Sophie had hurt Jim. "I had to do the same thing on Tarsus. My mom gave me a horse named Sophie."

When Jim did not seem able to continue, Spock extrapolated. "Most equines are not hardy enough to survive a famine for long. You were forced to shoot her, like I did with I-Chaya."

"Yeah," replied Jim, boosted by Spock's understanding. "And the worst thing is, if I had just waited _one_ more day, she might have been saved." Jim started crying again.

Spock regarded him silently. Then he spoke again. "If you blame yourself, it is misplaced. If blame is to be given, it must be directed at the terrorist group who started the plague in the first place."

"What?" Jim knew that a terrorist ship had been disrupting communications, but he hadn't heard this.

"You do not know? The Symmetrists started the plague on the colony as an experiment. Your regret over your actions is illogical in the face of their heinous act, which influenced the situation more than any single or collective decisions you made."

"My dad didn't tell me this," said Jim, horrified.

"Then it would seem that his time among humans has affected him greatly. Vulcans do not shield their children from the truth. It merely delays the inevitable."

Jim crossed his arms. The shock of this revelation stopped his tears. "It was artificial?"

"Indeed. It was specifically designed for maximum destruction. They intended to destroy the entire colony. That you managed to survive this at all is a feat worth recognizing."

"How do you know this?" asked Jim.

"T'Pol briefed me before the tal t'lee." Spock eyed him. "Now that you have regained yourself, shall we rejoin the group?"

Jim nodded and followed him back, thinking. He hadn't just survived; he'd managed to save people too. Like Kevin and his parents, who'd been slated to die. Somehow, in his agony over Sophie, he'd forgotten that. Maybe Spock was right. He'd been in a situation that, largely, wasn't his fault. Maybe he was putting too much responsibility on his own shoulders. Maybe the real culprit of Sophie's death had been as Spock said – the Symmetrists.

As Jim settled back on his cushion next to Spock, he found his perspective had changed of the Vulcan too. When he'd received that message months ago, he'd thought the boy was rather stuck up. Now, he saw there was much more to him than that. He still didn't understand him, why he'd initially refused his friendship, but he decided he would like to.

They sat and meditated some more before they finally took a break for lunch. They lined up for Plomeek soup. Jim took his and looked around for a table. Most were filled, but he noticed that no one went to sit at Spock's table. Jim decided to join him. He sat down, and tasted a spoonful of his soup. It was very hot, and rather bland, but far from the worst thing Jim had ever eaten.

"So. Do all Vulcans go through this ritual?" asked Jim, for lack of anything else to say.

"Yes. Normally, it is undertaken only at the age of ten. Obviously, I am older."

"Oh. Your parents held you back?" asked Jim, thinking it was like preschool or something.

"Negative. I went through the ritual at ten. However, recent events led them to decide to enroll me again."

"Oh. What happened?" asked Jim tentatively, sensing it was a sensitive subject.

"An altercation of little importance," said Spock dismissively.

"Hey, it's ok. I had some fights at school. Sometimes you just can't help it, you know? Someone insults the person you care about, and it's the last straw."

"I am Vulcan. No matter what is said to me, I must not allow others to elicit an emotional response. Even if they did insult my mother."

"Hey, if they insulted your mother like Finnegan insulted my dad, they deserved it," said Jim without remorse.

"It is not the Vulcan way," insisted Spock. "We are in complete control of our emotions."

Well. That is what Jim had come here to learn, wasn't it? Still. He couldn't quite see himself just sitting passively if someone insulted his dad in the worst ways possible. He'd want to give them a piece of his mind.

They finished lunch, and reconvened for more meditation. It wasn't long before he was forced to go up to T'Pol and ask for a triox injection. It was _hot_. Despite feeling like he was going to melt, Jim felt fidgety. It was so hard to just sit still all day! None of the other children seemed to have a problem with it, though. Especially Spock. Whenever Jim peeked at him, he was still as a stone statue. He barely even seemed to breathe. Jim was half tempted to check his pulse, just to be sure.

Spock's reframing had left him in temporarily better spirits, so he did not have as much trouble keeping it together for the rest of the challenging exercises. When it was time for his dad to pick him up, he felt very frustrated, but not like it'd been a waste of time.

"How was your first day?" his dad asked as they walked back to their rental.

"It was ok. I met this kid who has the same name as you. Spock."

"Indeed? What did you think of him?" Spock inquired, trying to keep casual.

"Well, at first I thought he was stuck up. But then, I discovered he wasn't so different from me."

"Good," Spock commented, secretly very pleased. Although obviously still very depressed, Jim appeared to be in the best spirits he'd been in since leaving Tarsus. Perhaps his younger self would succeed where he himself had failed.

The rest of the ritual should prove most fascinating.

* * *

I mixed what little I know of Vulcan meditation and emotional control with human methods I'm familiar with. What really happens in tal t'lee, I have no idea.


	12. Vulcan Logic

A/N: Thank you 312010, foxeeflame, XLucy0117X, K Ernst, acacia59601, zeynel, and Rindou Kiara for reviewing! Also, thanks to all those who have favorited and are following. Nearly 100! :) Awesome!

* * *

Vulcan Logic

The next day, Jim couldn't get out of bed.

His dad came into his room, concerned when Jim didn't respond or get up when asked to. He'd been nothing but completely obedient so far. Something had to be really wrong. "Are you well?" he asked.

Jim didn't answer.

Now very concerned, Spock opened the link and sat next to him on the bed. Physically, he could feel he was fine – a little uncomfortable and sore, maybe, from sitting in a new position, but nothing serious. Emotionally was a different story. Jim was locked tight in a turmoil he clearly didn't understand how to deal with.

Knowing how much Kirk Prime had benefited from tactile comfort, Spock pulled Jim to a sitting position, embracing him against himself with one arm. He lightly kissed his forehead. "Jim, it is all right."

"I can't go. I can't face it," Jim confessed in a small voice.

"Did something happen yesterday?" He'd truly thought Jim had seemed in better spirits, but maybe it was an act?

"No. They were all great. I just, can't sit there and face it all. Yesterday, I thought I could but…"

Spock knew when human emotions were suppressed, rather than released properly, they had a tendency to bubble up and overwhelm the individual unexpectedly. It sounded like Jim had attempted to bite off more than he could chew, and was realizing that this morning. He needed more individual attention than he'd gotten. Not T'Pol's fault; Jim's problems were more extensive than grief, which she had not known.

"I will speak to T'Pol," promised Spock, kissing Jim again before letting go. He left to make the call. Jim sat, unmoved, from where Spock had put him. God, he wished he had a book or something, anything other than being left alone with his thoughts.

Spock returned several minutes later. "T'Pol has come up with a solution," he said. "Young Spock will guide you through the tal t'lee at his home. She believes you will benefit from his undivided attention, and he will benefit from teaching you. He has already gone through the tal t'lee; therefore, he has adequate knowledge to guide you through the basics. For his part, it is logical to see if a new approach will help him. Do not feel that you are inconveniencing anyone," Spock added as Jim looked down, uncomfortable. "We believe that you both will benefit equally. T'Pol will still have a short session with you daily to monitor your progress. During that time, T'Pau will take over the tal t'lee and Spock will join the others. Is this agreeable?"

"Sure," Jim said with a shrug. He still didn't feel quite like he could do it, but if it was just young Spock and him, it wouldn't be so bad.

"Spock's father will not be there," his dad continued, trying to reassure him. "It will just be him and his mother."

"Why can't you do it?" Jim asked quietly after some hesitation. Having his dad around was very comforting.

"Jim. I will assist you whenever I can. However, as I have mentioned before, the emotional discipline you wish to learn is best taught by someone who is emotionally distant from you. I am too emotionally compromised with you to provide the most effective assistance."

Jim frowned, remembering what young Spock had said about his dad yesterday. Something about him spending too much time around humans, and protecting him from the ugly truth. Yet, being told what really happened at Tarsus had helped him. In that way, he could see what his dad meant. Young Spock had no emotional investment in him, and could see things more clearly. Or something.

"I am sorry," his dad apologized. "How can I further assist you?"

"Will you stay, at first?" Jim asked shyly.

"Of course. As soon as you get changed, we can go."

Minutes later, Jim and his dad were heading to a house just outside of town. So, this was where young Spock lived. Guess that meant this was Ambassador Sarek's house. Jim hunched his shoulders, curling into himself. He just wasn't used to associating with such important people. He was just a farmboy from Iowa.

They were greeted at the door by Amanda, Spock's mother. Jim blinked in surprise. Somewhere along the line, he'd forgotten Spock's mother was human.

"Selek!" she said, smiling brightly and embracing his dad. His dad hugged her back. Jim stared. He'd never seen his dad hug anyone other than himself.

"And you must be Jimmy!" she said, her smile brightening even further, drawing him in to a hug as well. Jim awkwardly hugged her back. _She smells nice_. His own mother didn't wear perfume. He felt an odd pang, but determinedly pushed it down.

"Call me Amanda," she said as she pulled back, letting go of him. "I'm so glad you're here! Spock talked about you nonstop when he came home yesterday. I'm so happy he has a friend!"

_Did Spock not have friends?_ "He, uh, really helped me yesterday," Jim answered, unsure of how to respond. Though he'd been polite, he hadn't really gotten the 'we're friends' vibe from him. "Thank you for inviting me here."

She smiled knowingly. "Oh, don't let him fool you. He likes you," she whispered conspiratorially. "And you are welcome here anytime!"

"Thanks," said Jim with a small smile, digging his hands into his Vulcan cloak. He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep it together. There was something about her that just made his heart ache. Why couldn't his mother be like her?

"Spock is in his room down the hall. Why don't you join him, and I'll sit here and talk with Selek."

"Ok," said Jim, forcing another smile before leaving.

Amanda turned to Selek. "Spock. You look well."

"Yes, I am doing quite well, thank you."

"You've grown into such a fine man. It really eases my mind about my son. You are still my son too, you know. It doesn't matter that you're from another reality. It doesn't matter." She smiled warmly at him.

"That means a lot to me," Spock admitted.

"You haven't seen your mother in a long time, have you?"

"I have not. She died a number of years ago. After her death, I made my final resolution to achieve emotional balance, rather than suppression. She was always important to me; I am sure my counterpart feels the same way about you."

"I know he does. But it is wonderful to hear it from you."

"Jim Kirk was always very important to me as well. I believe they will be good for each other."

Amanda glanced down the hall with a smile. "I hope you're right. Spock has never complained, of course, but I know he is very lonely. You should have heard him last night. He's never talked about any other kid like that before."

"Jim has gone through a severe trauma and is not himself. Even so, I believe he could not be a better friend for Spock. I look forward to watching their relationship unfold."

"So do I."

Meanwhile, Jim tentatively raised his hand to knock on Spock's door. Before he could, it opened, revealing young Spock on the other side.

"I heard your footsteps," he explained when Jim just gaped at him.

"Right," said Jim, though he thought he hadn't made a noise. Vulcan hearing?

"Come in and sit down," said Spock.

Jim entered, and the door slid shut behind him. Spock's room was bare and only had the essentials – the polar opposite of his own room. He spotted two cushions on the floor, and he sat down on one.

Spock sat on the other. "Shall we begin?" he asked.

"Sure," said Jim tensely. It was kind of odd, having someone not much older than himself teach him something like this. But, everything he'd seen so far suggested that a lot more was expected of Vulcan children than human children. Apples to apples, maybe Spock was equal to someone who graduated high school.

"Focusing on your breathing appeared to agitate you," Spock observed. "Do you have a preferred focal point?"

"I don't know. I've never meditated before coming to Vulcan."

"What lead you to believe it would be a beneficial course of action?" Spock asked curiously.

"Well, it's just. It really hurts, you know? And you guys, you guys just seem to not be bothered by anything. I wish I could be like that. Plus, my dad…" Jim trailed off, embarrassed.

Spock just started at him expectantly. "That is not a complete sentence," he pointed out.

Something about his tone, once again, make Jim want to laugh. "Well, I just think my dad would like it, you know? He'd be proud of me." Jim stopped himself from going into detail, from telling him about his deep desire to please his dad, his need to give back, to somehow make himself worthy of his dad. If he could be the perfect kid for him, maybe it would ease the confusion inside, about _why_ Spock loved him so much, _why_ he was never angry. Why his mother didn't feel that way. He hadn't thought about it this deeply before, hadn't put words to his urge to learn Vulcan ways.

But he still didn't want to share this revelation with Spock. He wasn't sure he'd understand. He probably had a great relationship with his father. He sure seemed to with his mother. Painful jealousy bit at his insides. Spock was so _lucky._ Yet, according to Amanda, Spock didn't have any friends. Maybe his world wasn't quite perfect after all.

Spock appeared to start to say something, and then stopped himself, conflict flashing briefly though his eyes. Jim got the sense he wasn't the only one holding back. "Let us return to the tal t'lee. Perhaps you should focus on your hands instead. Fold them like this," Spock directed, folding his in a complicated fashion and holding them up for Jim to see. "Then concentrate on the pressure and maintaining it."

Jim successfully copied him after a few attempts. However, it wasn't long before his breathing sped up, and he dropped his hands. "I can't. I can't focus like that. I just can't face it."

"Face what?"

"Memories. Of Tarsus," Jim squeezed out.

"You managed adequately yesterday. Perhaps this change is detrimental."

"No, it's not, it's just different today. I woke up like this. I don't know, it just kind of overwhelmed me out of nowhere," Jim admitted in frustration. "And it was frustrating yesterday too."

"Perhaps if we start at the beginning?"

"What?"

"You are overwhelmed by the chaotic, emotional nature of your thoughts, correct? Vulcans are taught from the crèche how to piece together and process a situation logically. Perhaps a similar analysis will help you?"

"You want me to tell you what happened?" asked Jim in dismay.

"If you believe it to be a breach of privacy, you have the right to refuse. However, I can offer no logical alternative at this time."

Jim shifted uneasily. Where to even _begin_? "Well, after school ended, I found out that my mom was going to have custody of me for a few weeks. _Supposedly_, until her Starfleet assignment started," Jim said bitterly.

"Your tone suggests displeasure. Do you not find your time with your mother beneficial?"

Jim's hands clenched into fists, and he fought to control the tears that threatened to fall. He didn't want Spock to think he was some kind of crybaby. "She's – well, she's kinda hard to explain. She's not like your mom at all. I never got the sense that she particularly wanted me around. Then, all of a sudden she's dragging me off planet with her."

"Humans are illogical," Spock stated.

"Yeah," agreed Jim. "I just don't understand why she did that."

"I myself do not understand many things my own mother does," Spock confessed. "Her emotions are erratic. I cannot predict when she will be pleased, and when she will be angry."

"It's not the same," Jim protested. Amanda _loved_ Spock; that was plain to see. He wasn't sure what Winona felt about him, but he didn't think it was love.

"Perhaps not. But from a logical point of view, the result is the same. We do not have enough information on which to base a hypothesis. We must accept what is."

"I really don't think you understand," said Jim, starting to get up. They'd have to figure something else out.

"_Jim,_" said Spock, his impassive tone replaced by an urgent one.

Startled, Jim froze. Spock had never used his first name before.

"You are correct. I do not have enough facts on which to base a hypothesis about your experience," Spock said quickly. "It may hold no resemblance to mine."

Was he _apologizing?_ Almost like, he didn't want Jim to leave?

"Shall we continue?" asked Spock uncertainly.

"This isn't anything like the tal t'lee we did yesterday," Jim said, stalling for time. He wasn't sure what he wanted to do. "Are we even doing it right?"

"It is not the traditional format," Spock agreed. "To achieve successful meditation, one's mind must be orderly. That is usually established in Vulcans before this ritual. I am attempting to help you organize your thoughts so you can meditate more effectively and, therefore, participate more successfully."

"And we do that by talking about – about what happened," Jim reiterated.

"That is the most effective means I know, short of a mind meld. I am yet to be trained in that art."

Spock's face had returned to its normal impassive state, but something about it just seemed so _hopeful._ Like he really wanted to do this with Jim. As little as Jim wanted to talk about Tarsus, he couldn't find it in himself to say no to Spock, either. It seemed he had a weakness for people named Spock. "Ok," Jim said, sitting back down.

Spock's face cleared, somehow, in relief, and he sat back down with him. "Your mother took you off planet. What happened next?"

"I met," Jim steeled himself. "Hoshi." There were those goddam tears again, fighting to surface.

"Was it an unpleasant experience?" asked Spock.

"No. She was great," Jim said, losing his battle as the tears started to fall.

"Yet, you are crying," Spock said, confused.

"Yeah, because she's _gone_," said Jim.

"The fact that she is gone now has no relevance to your memory of meeting her," Spock stated. "They are separate events."

Spock just didn't understand! "I miss her whenever I remember our time together."

"Then that explains your inability to concentrate. You have allowed your memory of loss to dominate over the others. That is a chaotic way of thinking."

"You mean, I should remember the good times we had and not miss her so much?" said Jim.

"That emotionalism is not the Vulcan way. However, in your vernacular, it is an apt parallel."

Jim blinked at him, slowly translating what he said. Sometimes Jim wasn't sure Spock spoke the same version of Standard he did! "Ooookaaay. It's just hurts so much. I really admired her."

"T'Pol is more familiar with her than I. Perhaps during your time with her, she will assist you with this. Shall we go on?"

"Um, ok." Jim wiped at his eyes. "Well. So we arrive at the planet, and I find out that it is Tarsus IV. That same day, my mom gave me Sophie."

"Had the famine begun?"

"Yeah, but it wasn't serious yet. But it got serious pretty quickly." Jim unconsciously hunched in on himself.

"What was the first indication you had of its true severity?"

"My mom started her Starfleet assignment early. Then Hoshi," Jim took a deep breath, "she said that she thought it was looking serious, but not to worry. Not long after, my mom said they started rationing the food."

"That is a stressful condition for the body, and you do not have the Vulcan abilities to control your body's processes. You must have made other adjustments."

Jim shrugged. "It wasn't so bad, at first. I – well, before I was adopted, I ate like that anyway. So it wasn't anything I hadn't experienced before."

"I am not familiar with the nutritional requirements of human children," Spock admitted.

Jim didn't know what to make of that, but at least he wasn't pressing him for details. "It didn't start getting bad until I realized that my mom had made no arrangements to get me back to Earth. I was _stuck_ there." Jim hugged himself slightly, the betrayal resurfacing in his mind. How could his mother have done that to him?

"It was inevitable that the authorities would discover the situation. What did she seek to accomplish?" Spock questioned.

"I don't know," Jim answered, forlorn. "It was like she was living in her own world."

"A sign of mental and emotional instability," Spock observed. Jim didn't answer him, so the young Vulcan studied him for a moment. "Are you attempting to place blame on yourself, as you did with Sophie?"

Jim picked at the pillow, still not answering.

"Do you believe yourself to be the cause of her instability?"

Jim froze.

"Your silence suggests uncertainty. What evidence do you have that this hypothesis holds merit?"

Jim still didn't respond or meet his gaze.

"Regardless of cause, your mother is a fully grown human. She was responsible for your well-being. She had many avenues of assistance accessible to her to ease her symptoms, and, in turn, become a more effective parent. She did not avail herself of them. Even in the unlikely event that you were the cause of her instability, you had no responsibility for it. She was negligent in her duties as a parent."

Jim appeared to have shut down, lost in some kind of unhappy place that was beyond crying. Spock was unsure of how to approach him when he could no longer appeal to his intellect. Perhaps his mother could help. "I will return presently."

Spock left the dejected human and went to the kitchen, where the elder, Selek, and his mother still conversed. They quieted as he approached. "Jim appears to be in some distress and no longer responds to logic. I am unsure of how to proceed," he said to his mother.

"What happened?" she asked in concern.

"We were discussing his mother and her negligence," Spock informed her. "I assured him that he had no responsibility. He does not appear to be convinced. Has he discussed this with you?" Spock continued, now addressing Selek.

"He has refused to talk about Tarsus with me," Selek admitted. "You have progressed further than I."

"Maybe he just needs a break. Why don't we all have lunch?" suggested Amanda.

"I will fetch him," agreed Spock. When he arrived back in his room, Jim had not moved from his previous position. "It is time for the midday meal. Will you join us?" Spock clasped his hands behind his back.

"Okay," said Jim quietly as he got up and followed his new friend out of the room. He sat down next to Spock at the table, instead of his dad. For some reason, he was hard to face right now.

His dad, sensing this, left him alone, addressing young Spock instead. "Thank you for doing this for Jim."

"Thanks is illogical," Spock informed him. "Teaching him is helping me organize my own thoughts more efficiently. The chaotic nature of his mind is giving me new perspectives. It is mutually beneficial."

"Ah," Selek replied with a small smile.

"May I make a personal query?" asked Spock.

"Of course," Selek granted, amused. If only young Spock knew. He planned on revealing his identity when he was older and less prone to overly influence his counterpart. For now, it was a secret that only T'Pau, Sarek, Amanda, and Dr. McCoy knew.

"Why have you chosen to adapt to human customs?"

Selek raised his eyebrows and sat back. As the humans would say, what a loaded question - one that he had struggled with his entire life. He noticed that even Jim was now looking at him with interest. He chose his words carefully. "In my life, I have experienced many things, including a being of pure logic. Yet, that being was still searching for more. Emotion is what it yearned for: connection to others, to the universe, to its maker. Emotion has its darker component; there is no denying it. Yet, without it, life is an empty, endless quest for more. In allowing my controls to loosen a small amount, I have found balance and contentment in life. Perhaps one day, you will discover this for yourself." He was not only speaking to his younger self; he addressed Jim as well. While he felt that the ritual was therapeutic for Jim, he believed that, ultimately, learning Vulcan emotional control was not a beneficial path for him. If he forced the issue, he was sure Jim would obey, but that would not fix the problem. Jim needed to see that for himself in order to truly heal and transform.

"Perhaps," young Spock replied skeptically.

Amanda watched the exchange, not bothering to hide her fond smile. As much as she loved her husband, as much as she supported young Spock's quest to be a true Vulcan, she was thrilled beyond words to have Selek here, helping him. She'd watched her son's human half suffering under the suppression, day by day. It was hard for her to stand aside and allow it. But now, between his alternate self, and his new friend, things looked to be turning around for her son.

In the meantime, she had to make sure Jim and Spock's tenuous relationship didn't fall apart. Jim still had to heal from his trauma, and Spock was not always the most adept at dealing with human emotionalism. Spock seemed to believe that Jim's relationship with his mother was not what it should be. If even Spock could see it, it must be so. Well, she would just have to mother him instead then. She'd charmed a Vulcan Ambassador; Jim would be no problem. "Jim. Would you like more?"

The poor boy looked terribly uncertain.

"I would like you to have more," she said decisively. Of course he wanted more. All young boys had bottomless pits for stomachs.

Jim eyed her uncertainly, but smiled. "Thanks."

"No problem, sweetie!" she replied, laying her hand on his shoulder and giving it a squeeze. "T'Pol is coming by after lunch. If there is anything more you need, you let me know."

His face softened into shy pleasure at her tone. It wasn't the reassured confidence she was going for, but it was a start. It was a start.

* * *

Do you guys find my POV switching to be strange or jarring? I know professionals do it, but JK Rowling, for instance, did it chapter by chapter. Not mid chapter and constantly like me. I seem to be doing it more in this story than I have previously. Just curious! Thanks.


	13. Healing

A/N: Thank you Ellyanah, foxeeflame, and GabrielsDoubt for reviewing! General consensus is that my POV switching is not a problem. Here is a bonus chapter that I worked on all day today. Not much further to go now. I'm thinking the word count for this story will be about the same as the first. Unless the characters, once again, insist there is more to be said! :)

* * *

Healing

When T'Pol arrived, young Spock left to rejoin the others in the tal t'lee. Jim's dad remained, continuing his conversation with Amanda. T'Pol and Jim sat on a private balcony that jutted out over some rocks.

"How are you progressing?" asked T'Pol, when they had settled into their seats.

"It's going ok," said Jim. "Uh, thanks for doing this for me."

"You are welcome. However, I will admit that my motivations were not entirely altruistic. Though you did tell Archer about your final impression of Hoshi, I hoped we could go into more detail about your time with her during our sessions."

"Oh. Well, Spock suggested I talk to you about Hoshi too." As little as he liked to do it, a part of him was curious, wondering if T'Pol would go into more detail too.

"Did he? What do you wish to know?" inquired T'Pol.

Jim shrugged. Then, hesitantly, he asked, "What happened to her, exactly? How did she die?"

T'Pol glanced away, seeming to gather herself, before meeting his gaze again. "Because most of the witnesses are dead, and the remaining are suffering from trauma, it was difficult to piece together a coherent picture. From what we have gathered, she approached the Starfleet personnel and attempted to formulate a strategy to expose Kodos' plot and remove him from power. They began to implement their plan; however, before they could get far, they were caught. We believe that there was at least one traitor among them. Hoshi managed to get away with a few others. However, the starvation and stress had taken a toll on her, especially considering her age, and she had a heart attack. The two people she escaped with attempted to discreetly drag her to a doctor outside the city. Unfortunately, they were found by Kodos' men and shot. Hoshi was already dead when she was also shot."

During this explanation, Jim unconsciously abandoned his Vulcan-esque posture and curled into himself. "She would have wanted to go out fighting," said Jim.

"I agree. We did determine that she died quickly, without excessive pain. While she did not 'go down fighting' in the sense that you mean, she did, nonetheless, die while involved in a worthy cause. I am gratified to note that she remained true to herself until the very end."

"She did," mumbled Jim, looking down and picking at his cushion. "She was great." He was back to feeling numb. At least he wasn't crying in front of T'Pol.

"I grieve for her also," T'Pol admitted.

Jim looked up at her in surprise.

"It is perhaps culturally incorrect for a Vulcan to grieve. However, I am not full Vulcan. I discovered recently that I am half Romulan. This has influenced my emotional controls. Though I have not loosened them as much as your father has, my control is still not as solid as a full Vulcan's would be."

"Oh," said Jim.

"Why did Spock believe that you should talk to me about her?"

"Well, he's been helping me organize my thoughts about – about what happened. He told me my thoughts about her were chaotic. That I was dwelling on the loss too much instead of remembering the good times too."

"That would interfere with your ability to concentrate properly on your meditation."

Jim nodded in confirmation. Apparently Spock really did know what he was talking about.

"You bonded with her quickly for knowing her for so short a time," T'Pol observed.

"Yeah. She was interesting. She tried to teach me Andorian from this book she had. We both like paper books," Jim recalled with a small smile.

"Starfleet is gathering people's belongings and shipping them back to Earth. If you wish, I can see if that book was recovered and have it sent to you."

"Really?" Jim said. He wouldn't be able to read it, but it would be comforting, in a small way, to have something to remember her by.

"I will make the arrangements," she promised.

"Thanks."

"What else do you remember about her?" she asked.

Jim slowly, painfully recounted their time together in as much detail as he could stand. T'Pol interjected often with observations and anecdotes of her own. At the end of it, Jim did feel better. It was nice to share the experience with someone who listened so well and truly understood, even if she wasn't the most of emotive of confidants.

"Let us try a little meditation," T'Pol suggested, when the conversation drew to a natural conclusion.

Jim straightened and put his hands in the position Spock had shown him earlier.

"You are concentrating better," T'Pol observed. It was true; though Jim didn't think he could hold it long, focusing on his hands and having nothing to distract him from his thoughts was not currently as troublesome as it had been. "Do you have any questions?"

"No," said Jim, feeling talked out.

"Very well. Let is adjourn for the day." Jim followed her out to the living room, where Amanda sat, alone.

"T'Pau wished to speak to your dad when she was finished with the tal t'lee," Amanda told Jim, when she noticed him glancing around. "So he headed out early."

"Oh, ok," Jim replied.

"You must give Spock my compliments," said T'Pol. "He has done well with Jim so far."

"I'll tell him," Amanda promised with a smile.

"I must return to the tal t'lee to relieve T'Pau. I will send Spock back here when I arrive. Good day, Amanda."

"You too, T'Pol," returned Amanda. As the Vulcan elder left, she turned to Jim. "Sit down. Let's talk a bit until Spock arrives."

Jim silently sat down. He'd really had enough of talking for today, but he didn't want to say no to Amanda.

"So Jim, what do you do for fun?" Maybe if it was something Spock enjoyed too, they could do it together. It might strengthen their relationship more than the tal t'lee.

Jim shrugged. "I play holo games with my friends. Read books. And stuff."

"Maybe you and Spock could play a game," Amanda said. She'd have to go out and buy one, but it would definitely be worth it.

"Sure," said Jim.

"What are your plans when you get back to Earth?" Amanda asked.

"I might go to an amusement park," Jim said. "I'm not sure."

Before she could try to make further conversation, they were interrupted by the comm. Amanda accepted the call on audio and visual. "Solkar! How are you?"

"Functional," said Solkar. "Sarek sends his regards and apologies. He will be unable to make the scheduled comm call with you today. His negotiations are taking longer than expected."

"That's all right. I'm entertaining company anyway. I think you've met him – Jim Kirk?"

Solkar sat straighter, if that was possible. "Mr. Kirk and I are acquainted. Is he amendable to speaking?"

Amanda grinned. Something about Jim must have piqued Solkar's curiosity. "Jim?"

Jim approached the viewer. "Hi Solkar."

"Mr. Kirk. I hear you are undertaking the tal t'lee. How is your progress?"

"Um, T'Pol seems to think I'm doing better," Jim replied.

"Good. How has your father been occupying himself?"

He hadn't really asked, but he remembered what Amanda had said. "Right now he's visiting with T'Pau."

Solkar raised his eyebrows slightly, eyes intent. "Indeed?"

"Yeah," said Jim. "She wanted to see him."

"It is unusual for her to request a citizen's presence, instead of the reverse," he observed.

Jim shrugged.

"Uncertainty and tacit agreement?" interpreted Solkar, almost sounding proud of himself.

"Yeah, I don't know why she's talking to him. I'll ask when I see him."

Solkar hesitated, then reluctantly stated, "I must return to my duties. I will speak to you again."

"Ok. Bye Solkar."

The connection was cut. Amanda bit back a laugh. Apparently Solkar's insatiable curiosity was now directed at the older Spock. She could only wonder what he'd concluded. Sarek would keep him in check. "Looks like you made a friend."

"Yeah, he keeps asking me about my dad," said Jim.

"Don't take it personally. He's curious about everything. Got him into trouble when he was younger, but he's gotten better about controlling it. Sarek values it because it makes him more observant, which is important in his job. But it still gets him into quandaries from time to time."

Young Spock entered just then, ending their conversation. "Are you ready to proceed?" he asked Jim.

Jim folded his arms reluctantly. He really didn't feel like meditating or talking anymore.

Sensing Jim's mood, Amanda intervened. "How about you call it a day?"

"Ok," said Jim.

"Very well. I can escort you home," stated Spock.

"He doesn't have to leave just yet," interjected Amanda. "How about you do something else together?"

"What do you propose?" asked Spock.

Amanda beamed. Here was her chance to get Spock to have some fun, even if he'd never admit to enjoying himself. "Jim says he likes to play holo games. I'll go pick one out for you two to try out. Will you two be all right while I'm gone?"

"I expect no difficulties," stated Spock.

"Good." Amanda smiled and walked out the door.

Jim and Spock sat in silence that wasn't quite awkward, but charged in a strange way, the air filled with questions they both wished to ask but wouldn't.

"Who is T'Pau?" Jim asked finally, figuring that one was safe.

"T'Pau is the leader of the Vulcan High Council," Spock stated. "She is also my grandmother."

"Oh," Jim said in surprise. He'd gotten the vibe that she was important, but not _that_ important. Wow. And Spock was directly related to her! What must that be like for Spock, to be related to such prominent people? "She must be busy."

"Indeed. It is unusual for her to involve herself in the tal t'lee anymore, even for brief periods. Your father must have influence." There was a question in that final sentence.

"He seems to. He won't talk about it, though. He's very secretive."

"Vulcans are not as inclined to discuss personal matters as humans," Spock pointed out.

"Yeah, but even your dad's aide thought it was strange," Jim argued.

"If you are referring to Solkar, he is not representative of the Vulcan race." Something about Spock's tone suggested that he didn't like him.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I have no comment on the matter." Spock's tone was flat, almost angry.

Now the silence was awkward. After Jim had opened up to him that day, Spock was now shutting him out for no good reason.

That was how Amanda found them on her return, staring tensely in opposite directions and not speaking. She frowned. This wasn't good. Although she knew Spock hadn't done anything on purpose, she suspected it was still his doing. "Everything go okay while I was gone?"

"We encountered no difficulties."

Of course not. She would have to use a different tactic. But, first things first. "Well, Jim, I wasn't sure what you like, and there wasn't much of a selection, but here's what I found," she said, laying out a few holo games on the table for him to look at. "Tell me which one you want to try, and I'll set it up for you."

Jim didn't really want to play with Spock right now, but on the other hand, he really wanted something to occupy his mind. And it'd been such a long time since he'd done anything fun. He picked out one, and Amanda got out the holo player.

"Thanks," said Jim. "It's been awhile since I played."

"No problem!" Amanda said brightly. "This will be Spock's first time. He's done simulations, of course, but nothing for recreational purposes."

"Oh. Well, no problem," said Jim.

Amanda finished setting up the game. Spock looked over the instructions curiously. Jim suddenly wished Gary and Ben were here. Then it wouldn't be so _awkward_. He'd thought Spock was becoming his friend. The sharp disappointment in the situation surprised him. Guess he'd liked Spock more than he'd realized. Of course it wasn't mutual. Spock had just shared that stuff about himself because T'Pol had told him to help Jim. Now that they weren't doing the tal t'lee, Spock wasn't required to say anything to him. He was just going along with what his mom wanted them to do. On his own, he'd be back to that boy who'd written him that letter, saying he wanted nothing to do with humans.

"All right. Do you need anything else?" Amanda asked.

"No, we're good," Jim assured her, his smile hollow.

Amanda left, intending to return soon to check on them. She'd have to come up with a way to fix whatever had happened. She wouldn't let Spock ruin his chance at the friendship she knew he deeply craved.

"Well. Shall we get started, Spock?" Jim asked him.

"Very well."

They started up the game, playing against each other. They were evenly matched; Jim was far more experienced, but Spock was a quick learner. Despite the tension, Jim enjoyed himself. Spock was a tough opponent, and it took all his skills to outwit him.

Amanda came up silently behind them minutes later and stood there, watching their progress. They still weren't speaking much. When dealing with a Vulcan, sometimes it was best to be direct. She decided she would have to be now. "What did you guys talk about while I was gone?"

Jim startled a little, though Spock didn't, having heard her approach. "I told him T'Pau was my grandmother. And we discussed his father," Spock informed her.

Well. That didn't tell her much. Vulcans! "What about his father?" she asked, feeling like that was getting on the right track.

"That he is secretive. I explained to Jim that Vulcans typically do not discuss personal matters, so it is not the strange anomaly he believes it to be."

Ah. Now she saw where this was going. Jim had shared himself with Spock, but Spock wasn't returning the favor. Of course, it was only a guess, but she knew Spock very well. How to fix it, though? The direct approach wouldn't work in this case. She'd have to watch for an opportunity. It would have to be soon, though, before Jim got too discouraged and gave up. "I'll leave you two to your fun," she said.

She came out with a small dinner later. Spock made a comment about how engaging the game was, which Jim responded to noncommittally. Then it was time for Spock to escort Jim home. Amanda watched them anxiously until they were out of sight. Maybe the older Spock would have some insight.

Spock and Jim walked in complete silence. But not for long.

"Hey, your human eyes are sad again," said a snooty voice. Spock stopped, and Jim followed suit. He turned to see a Vulcan teenage boy, taller than Spock, haughtily meet his gaze. He was flanked by two other Vulcan boys.

"Stonn. I am otherwise occupied. You will have to speak with me later," Spock informed him evenly.

Were these Spock's bullies? Like Finnegan was to Jim? Despite the tension between them, Jim found himself take a step in front of Spock protectively.

"Fraternizing with your own kind? Wait. You don't have your own kind. You belong nowhere," Stonn said.

"Your attempts to elicit an emotional response will not succeed this time," Spock insisted. "I must go."

"That's right. You need physical stimuli," gloated Stonn. He and the other boys stepped forward.

"Hey," said Jim, stepping in between them completely, his fists clenched. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Get out of the way, Earthling. This doesn't concern you."

"Yes it does. Spock is my friend." Maybe not, but Stonn didn't need to know that.

"Vulcans don't have friends. Especially not half Vulcans," Stonn sneered. "You are weak. It is illogical to think you can win against us."

Spock grabbed his arm, touching bare skin. "Jim. We must go," he pleaded.

"I think you'd be surprised," said Jim daringly, his anger flaring, ignoring Spock. He'd taken out one of Kodos' men, and his dad had spent weeks teaching him to fight. He could take them. It'd give him such satisfaction to vent his pent up, helpless rage at someone who deserved it.

Spock pulled at his arm insistently. There were no adults around; they hadn't quite reached the city yet. It was up to him to diffuse the situation. "We are expected. We must depart."

The three boys exchanged glances. Then Stonn lunged at Jim. Jim, pumped full of adrenalin and knowledge of Vulcan hand to hand combat techniques, ducked neatly out of the way and yanked him off balance. Stonn stumbled in surprise.

The other two boys were advancing upon Spock now. Spock gamely held his own. Though Jim and Spock put up a better fight than the bullies expected, they were will outmatched, and found themselves thrown face down in the sand.

"Go back to where you belong, Earthling," said Stonn, kicking Jim briefly before leaving.

The two of them got up. "Are you injured?" asked Spock.

"Just sore," Jim admitted. "What assholes."

"That only makes up a small part of their anatomy," Spock said in confusion.

"It means they're jerks," Jim translated.

"I see." They paused, staring at each other uncertainly. Spock spoke again. "I hope you do not judge this experience as representative of Vulcan culture."

Jim shrugged. He supposed it was about as representative for Vulcans as Finnegan was for humans.

"If you do not wish to associate with me anymore, I will yield to your logic," Spock informed him solemnly.

"Are you trying to get rid of me?"

"Negative. I find your presence most stimulating. However, your well-being is more important."

Now, in a strange way, he was starting to sound like his dad. Weird. "Hey, I'm not going to let a few jerks intimidate me. Besides, it's not like I haven't handled this before."

"It is illogical for you to proceed when future altercations could easily be avoided."

"What? Don't you think it's worth it?" asked Jim, his eyes stinging. Damn, not again.

"To what are you referring?"

"This," Jim gestured between them. "Being friends. You refuse to talk to me, then you won't accept me standing up for you. You don't want anything to do with humans, like you said in your letter."

Spock frowned, and then comprehension dawned. "It was not my intention to convey displeasure or alienation. I did not realize this was important to you."

"I've been talking to you about a lot of stuff. I want you to share more with me, too. Not just during the tal t'lee. And I stood up for you. Don't you appreciate that?"

"I am not familiar with the protocol of human relationships," Spock admitted. "I meant no insult. While your determination to stand up to them while outnumbered was illogical, I do appreciate your assistance. Also, while I did not believe interacting with a human would further my goal to become purely Vulcan, my hypothesis has since been proven incorrect. As I have stated before, our relationship has proven to be mutually beneficial." They resumed walking. "What do you wish to know?"

"What happened between you and Solkar?"

Spock looked at him again, the last of his confusion and tension clearing. It seemed he'd finally got it. "We had no altercation. Certainly not of the nature between me and Stonn. Solkar expresses much curiosity about me, beyond what he does for others. I do not believe my mixed heritage is a novelty to be studied."

As far as Jim was concerned, Solkar meant about as much harm as a purring kitten. Spock must already feel singled out, and be taking Solkar's attention the wrong way. But, he didn't want to ruin their tenuous understanding by arguing with him. "I don't see what the big deal is," he agreed instead. "You seem like a true Vulcan to me."

"There are not many who would agree with that assessment," Spock answered.

"Hey, well, at least your family supports you," Jim said.

"While you are correct that my mother is supportive, my father is not always so," Spock admitted.

Oh. So _that_ was why Spock had looked at him like that when he'd said he wanted to make his dad proud. He wanted to make his dad proud of him too. Jim felt their camaraderie of yesterday flare to life again. "He'll come around. You didn't lose control this time, right? You were just defending yourself."

"I am not sure he will see it your way," Spock said, though he sounded a little more cheerful, if that was possible for someone who spoke so impassively. "If I had better control, they would lose interest."

"That's crap," said Jim. "They're just jerks! It isn't your fault they're like that. You can't help who you are. What happened to that IDIC thing?"

"You do not understand. Control of one's emotions is integral to Vulcan society. Without it, we would destroy ourselves. They have legitimate concerns."

"I might not be an expert on Vulcans, but that sure as hell wasn't concern they were displaying. Spock, they were bullying you! You can't blame yourself for the way they treat you!"

Spock was silent a moment. "If that is true, then it is only logical to point out that you cannot blame yourself for your mother's behavior either."

Jim stopped and stared at him, so Spock obligingly halted as well. "That's different."

"It is _no_ different, Jim."

"She's my mom. She's supposed to take care of me. They don't have that kind of relationship with you."

"That does not shift responsibility. It merely broadens the aspects of her behavioral negligence."

"You really think so?" Jim said, beginning to see, beginning to believe.

"I have been treated this way because of the fact of my existence. It is the same for you. Jim, I have observed you when under duress. You have done nothing to merit any kind of mistreatment. As an impartial observer, I do not speculate, I state facts. While we have not long been in acquaintance, I have gathered enough data to know your character. If I were to drop a hammer, I need not watch it fall to know it will hit the ground. In the same way, I do not need to observe more examples of your behavior to know the end result. It is nothing that deserves the disservice your mother has done you."

Jim stared at him, speechless with wonder. He'd had his dad say this kind of thing to him before, but this was different somehow. "You mean that," Jim concluded.

"Indeed."

Jim fought the urge to hug his friend as a weight lifted off his shoulders. He didn't think Spock would appreciate that, so he cast about for another way to express his gratitude as they resumed walking. "Thank you," he said, though it seemed inadequate.

"Thanks is – "

"Illogical, I know. Humor me," Jim said, giving him a genuine smile.

"Very well. My mother informs me that the human response is, 'You are welcome.' However, I maintain that thanks is illogical, since I was merely stating facts."

Jim huffed a laugh. Spock was so stubborn!

"We have arrived," Spock stated, preventing any further banter.

Jim looked around. They were indeed by the front door of the rental. He'd been so caught up in his conversation with Spock that he hadn't paid any attention to his surroundings.

"Do you need any further assistance?" Spock inquired politely.

"No, I'm good," said Jim, smiling at him again. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Very well." Spock quirked a brow, then headed back to his house.

Jim entered and found his dad reading a padd at the dining table. He looked up as Jim approached, and frowned. "What happened to you?"

"Huh?" asked Jim, heedless of the dirt smudged on him, and the bruise forming on his face.

Spock remembered the various times in his younger years when Jim had the misfortune to become his "punching bag." It had always been under duress, but who knows what could have happened. When he was a child, his control had been even more tenuous than as an adult. He certainly hoped that wasn't the case. "Did you have an altercation with young Spock?"

"What?" said Jim, thrown. "No!" He glanced down, and saw why his dad was concerned. "No, I just met some classmates of his. It was nothing," he reassured him.

Ah. It had been many, many years since he'd thought of the bullies at school. He'd all but forgotten them. He could see it now: them advancing on young Spock, with Jim coming to his defense, while Spock tried to persuade him to leave. As a youngster, there had been little he could do. However, now, things were different. "I believe I know whom you refer to. I will look into it."

Jim dithered between protest and relief. In the end, he decided to just let it go. "Ok. I'm beat. Is it all right if I go to bed?"

"Of course, Jim. Other than your altercation, did your day go well?"

"Yeah," said Jim, thoughts lingering mostly on Spock's speech to him at the end of their walk. "How about you? What did T'Pau want?" Jim asked, remembering what Solkar said.

His dad regarded him carefully. "She wished for my advice concerning a sensitive political matter. I'm afraid I must keep it confidential."

Wow. Who _was_ his dad that one of the most powerful women on Vulcan sought out his advice? His dad's expression was closed, though. Once again, it seemed that he would not receive the answers he wanted. He was too tired to worry about it anyway. "Ok. Goodnight, dad."

"Goodnight, Jim." Spock pulled him into a hug and gave him a light kiss on his temple. Jim softened at the touch, glowing inside. For the first time, he felt he just might deserve this from his dad. Even so, it cemented his determination to be as good of a son to Spock as Spock was a good father to him. He'd conquer this tal t'lee thing. It was no longer about taking away his pain. Despite the fact that his panic at the practice had eased, and he felt better, meditation was sounding less and less appealing. He wouldn't let that stop him. He'd been halfhearted and doubtful about it so far. Tomorrow, he'd redouble his efforts. And maybe, just maybe, he could start telling his dad about Tarsus.

He wouldn't disappoint his dad, no matter what.

* * *

Did you catch my reference to "Court Marshal" ? That has to be one of my favorite Spock speeches! :)


	14. Loyalty

A/N: This chapter was almost as hard as chapter 6! It took five rewrites but I finally got it. Thanks to zeynel, Constance Truggle, GabrielsDoubt, Rindou Kiara, and digiwriter1392 for reviewing!

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Loyalty

Jim woke early the next morning on his own. He got up, stretched, and started taking out breakfast from the refrigerator. It was odd to be up before his dad, but he was feeling better than he had in ages.

"Good morning, dad," Jim greeted as he came in.

His dad stopped, raising an eyebrow slightly. "You are "chipper" this morning," he commented.

Jim smiled and shrugged shyly. They sat down and began to eat.

"It appears that the tal t'lee has been effective in helping you," Spock observed.

"Yeah," said Jim. "It's easier to talk about everything, now." It was the talking that had helped, not the meditating, but he didn't want to admit that. His dad might be disappointed.

"I am pleased to hear it."

"Thanks for bringing me here," Jim added.

"Of course," said Spock.

They finished and walked in companionable silence to young Spock's house. Amanda greeted them with a sober expression and ushered them into the sitting area. "I'm afraid Spock isn't going to be teaching you the tal t'lee anymore, Jim," she said. Her crossed arms and tense posture betrayed her anger.

"Oh?" said Jim's dad.

"Sarek found out what happened last night. He wasn't pleased that he had another 'incident with his classmates.'" She made sarcastic quotation marks with her hands. "He's grounded."

"But – it wasn't his fault!" Jim protested, gathering his breath for a tirade.

Amanda cut him off. "I know! Sarek won't listen. Spock's in his room if you want to talk to him." She unfolded her arms, her expression beseeching.

Jim paused, uncertain, as both adults looked at him expectantly, like he was the savior of the situation. He'd never had adults look at him like that before. "Ok," he agreed, and set out for Spock's room. Spock did not meet him at the door this time, but it opened before he could knock, so he took that as an invitation to come in.

He found his friend sitting by his window, staring out with a completely blank expression. "Hey," Jim greeted him.

"Jim," Spock said expressionlessly, acknowledging him with a quick glance.

Jim settled down next to him. What to say? "It wasn't your fault. You shouldn't be grounded."

"Yet, I am. Kaiidth." His expression never changed.

"Kay-dith?" Jim mispronounced.

Spock's eyebrow twitched, giving him another swift glance. "Kaiidth. It means, what is, is. The only logical course of action is to accept the current state of events. Debating further serves no purpose."

Ok. Now what? Spock was giving him no clues. "Do you want company?" Jim asked.

"Just because I can no longer teach you, does not mean that you cannot continue the tal t'lee. I suggest you do so," Spock urged flatly.

Jim frowned. "That doesn't answer my question," he pointed out softly.

Spock met his gaze fully for the first time that day. "Since I am not doing anything entertaining or productive to you, I do not understand the logic of your desire. However, if you have no objections, then I have none."

Hardly a warm welcome. But, Spock seemed a little dejected, and especially after what had passed between them yesterday, Jim decided to take the high road. "I don't."

"Very well." They were silent for a minute. "Do you still plan on continuing the tal t'lee?"

"No," Jim said swiftly, without thinking. "I'm done with it."

Spock met his gaze again. "What led you to this decision? It appears to have assisted you in your recovery."

Emotion bubbled up in a jumble that Jim didn't quite know how to express. "Well. I just don't want to do it now."

Spock stared at him like he'd just told him he was really a pink and purple alien from a subspace dimension. So Jim struggled to put it into words. "It's not fair what they did to you," said Jim, meaning more than just Sarek. "I don't want to have anything to do with that." The unfairness resonated too strongly with how Frank used to treat him.

"Your loyalty is commendable." Spock's eyes were a little warmer now. "However, I do not wish you to give up something beneficial for yourself to express it."

"I don't think it was working out as well as you think," Jim admitted. He was shit at meditating. The talking had helped him more, but he knew they were trying to wean him off that.

"It takes practice to achieve," Spock persisted. "You must not give up so quickly."

"Yeah, well," Jim started eloquently, sluggishly gathering the thoughts that had been simmering in the back of his mind. "I thought life was better when you could manage emotions like a Vulcan. But, it doesn't seem like it actually is that way."

Spock appeared skeptical, yet interested, so Jim continued. "Back home, I had trouble with my parents. I had a bully. Suppressing emotions hasn't saved you from those problems. T'Pol seemed as grieved as I was, she just hid it better. Maybe it still wasn't as bad for you guys. But you don't have the perks of being emotional either. It doesn't look like Vulcan kids have much fun, or adults for that matter."

"It is illogical to engage in frivolous activity," Spock stated.

"Yeah. That," said Jim. "I don't know. I hate how bad things got. How I was just drowning in it. But, it seems like if I gave up that, I would have to give up the good things too. I didn't realize it would really be that way until I saw how everyone is here."

"It is true. What you would describe as "positive" emotion, we suppress as well. To give any emotion the chance to gain momentum results in a loss of control that is unacceptable for Vulcans."

"I just don't know I can do that. Just, what will I tell my dad? He didn't want me to give up emotions, but this is a Vulcan ritual that he probably did himself. I don't want to quit and disappoint him. I want to make him proud by following in his footsteps," admitted Jim quietly, feeling confident Spock would understand. That was, after all, what he was choosing to do with his own father.

"Selek is unusually emotionally expressive for a Vulcan; therefore, his response is difficult to predict. However, based on my assessment of his personality and his regard for you, I doubt you will encounter the same difficulties that I am experiencing with my own father." His expression flattened again.

"Hey," said Jim, reflexively touching Spock on the elbow before catching himself and drawing back. "He _has_ to be proud of you."

"I do not share your assessment," Spock stated blankly.

"Well, he _should_ be," Jim insisted.

Silence fell. Jim wracked his brains for something to do that Spock wouldn't find "illogical" or ridiculous. "Hey, do you play chess? My dad has a set," Jim said. If his dad played it, it couldn't be that weird to a Vulcan, even if his dad wasn't "normal."

"I am familiar with the game, but I have not achieved much practice."

Ok. "I'll ask him for it." Jim got up and approached his dad, who was talking to Amanda. They abruptly stopped when they saw him approach.

Jim fidgeted nervously, unused to being the center of such intense adult concern. "Do you still have that travel chess set?"

"I do," said his dad, his eyes glowing in a strange way. He took it out of his pocket and slowly handed it to him. "Would you be amendable to us watching?"

Jim didn't really want an audience, especially since young Spock was sure to steamroll him (despite what he said about "inexperience"), but his dad looked so _hopeful._ "Sure," he agreed.

Minutes later, he and young Spock sat on the floor, strategizing moves, with Jim's dad and Amanda watching them. Jim and the two Vulcans were silent and rapt, but Amanda broke the silence.

"So Jim, I know you probably want to get back to the tal t'lee after this, but you are welcome to stay for as long as you want," she said. Sarek wouldn't be happy, but he would just have to deal.

Jim stilled. So, this was it. He met young Spock's eyes, which somehow managed to convey support despite their flatness. He hunched in slightly and dropped his gaze to the chessboard. "I'm not going to continue with the tal t'lee."

"Well, all right," said Amanda, clearly surprised. Since it was what she wanted, she decided not to press. She'd let her older son worry about it. "Then, you are welcome to stay here for as long as you plan to stay on Vulcan."

"Thanks," said Jim with a smile, relieved. He could tell by the expression in his dad's face, though, that the conversation wasn't over. But, he still hadn't said anything, which probably meant he didn't want to have this conversation in front of young Spock and Amanda. He wasn't sure if he was glad of the reprieve or not. He just wanted to know what his dad thought and get it over with.

Despite Jim's pessimism, all of his time playing chess with his dad paid off. It was close, but he managed to beat Spock. At the end, young Spock quirked a brow and said, "Fascinating."

Jim decided that was a compliment, even though it came out pretty ambiguous. "Thanks, good game. It was fun."

"Your moves were illogical at times. Yet, upon reflection, they exhibited the adaptability that humans are famous for. It was a most stimulating demonstration."

That was probably as close as young Spock was going to get to saying, "I had fun too." "Glad to hear it," said Jim. He glanced at his dad, and then did a double take at his strange, yet happy expression. He'd seen him get that look on his face before. When had it been?

"Shall we commence another game?" asked Spock hopefully. It was the most expression he'd put into his voice all day.

Jim glanced at his dad for permission. Since he wasn't doing the tal t'lee, would he let him stay? Yet, his dad nodded instantly, so young Spock set up the board with efficient skill.

"I am unfamiliar with the educational requirements of humans," young Spock said suddenly, while contemplating his next move. "What areas are you taught?"

"Uh, well, I take history, gym, math, social studies, science, English, music, art." Jim frowned thoughtfully. "We also go on field trips from time to time." He perked up, remembering his latest one. "I got to go on a tour of the new Enterprise ship that has just started being built. It was awesome."

"I was not aware that large groups of children toured such establishments," said young Spock.

"Well, no, they don't. It was a contest. I wrote an essay and they liked it, so I was one of the lucky few that got to go." He remembered the trauma and drama that had ensued, but he also had the memory of how his dad had – _that_ was where he'd seen that look before! His dad had the same expression watching them play chess as he'd had when Jim had read his essay on how to be a great Starship Captain. He didn't understand the similarity, but, whatever made his dad happy was fine with him.

"I would be interested in reading the essay," stated Spock.

For some reason, this thrilled Jim. "Really? Well sure! I'm sure I still have a copy somewhere. I'll forward it to you when I find it."

"That is agreeable," his young friend decided.

They chatted more about school, though by silent mutual agreement, they managed to skate around the subject of bullies. Their second game almost ended in stalemate, but young Spock managed to turn the tables in his favor to checkmate Jim.

Jim was getting rather tired of playing such an intellectual game, but he didn't want to admit it. Not when both Vulcans seemed to be having such a good time, as much as Vulcans could, anyway. "Best out of three?" he suggested.

Amanda was perceptive, though. As a teacher, she knew how to tell when a student was getting bored, and he showed all the signs of it. She would have none of that. "How about you try that hologame again instead?" she suggested.

Jim perked up. "Sure, if it's okay with you," he said, addressing his friend.

"It is acceptable," said young Spock.

"How about we eat lunch first? It's getting to that time," realized Amanda. She and young Spock retreated to the kitchen to make preparations, leaving Jim alone with his dad. He tensed, sure that he would address his decision about the tal t'lee. His dad never was one to procrastinate.

He wasn't disappointed. "Jim, I wish to know what changed your mind about the tal t'lee."

Jim searched his face, but couldn't find any indication about how his dad felt about his decision. "It's kinda hard to explain," he hedged. He didn't share his dad's lack of procrastination.

"Please try," his dad urged.

"Well, it's just, well, it's been really helpful and everything. Everyone has been great."

"But?"

"But, well, I don't want to do it anymore now that Spock's not doing it. And, well…"

"Meditation is not your strong point," his dad finished, as if this was a foregone conclusion.

Jim blanched a little. Did his dad not have faith in him? "Well, I think if I tried it more, maybe I would get it," he defended himself. Strange, he couldn't remember doing that with his dad before.

"Jim, I have no doubt you can do anything you set your mind to," Spock refuted, so sincerely that Jim instantly felt better. "However, as I have said, your emotions are an integral part of who you are. I would not change it for anything."

Jim relaxed a little. It looked like young Spock was right. "You're really ok with it? You're not disappointed or anything?"

"Jim, if you are asking if I am proud of you, the answer is a 'resounding' yes." Spock quirked an eyebrow slightly and settled back into the couch. Kirk Prime would never have sought his approval in this manner, yet, their relationship was very different. It had not occurred to him that this would be an issue the first time they'd had this conversation. He would have to be more conscious of this.

Jim's face softened. "Thanks, dad." He paused. "So, what happens now?"

"Now we have little reason to remain on Vulcan," his dad supplied. "However, we can linger a few days, if you wish to spend more time with Spock."

Now Jim could finally get a read on him. His dad seemed to want to stay. Jim agreed. It seemed wrong, somehow, to just up and leave young Spock so quickly, even though he hadn't known him long. Still, he was looking forward to returning to a more comfortable climate soon. "Yeah, I think I would like to stay a little longer."

"Then it is decided."

Jim ended up staying there for three more days with his dad before they departed. While he still struggled with grief at times, he felt he was on the "healing high rise," so to speak. Things would just get better from here. When the time was up, saying goodbye to everyone proved harder than Jim had expected.

"Hey," Jim said to young Spock as they stood in his room. Jim and his dad were stopping by one last time before heading for the spaceport. "I guess this is it."

"Indeed." Spock paused. "If you do find that essay, I am still interested in reading it."

Jim smiled. "Yeah, I'll pass it on." He fidgeted awkwardly. How do you say goodbye to an unemotional Vulcan boy? Maybe he should just ask. "How do Vulcans traditionally say goodbye?"

"Without delving into the cultural implications of that statement, in the spirit of your question, we often say, 'live long and prosper,' with the ta'al gesture."

"Tah owl?" Jim said, mispronouncing it on purpose. He had the sneaking suspicion that Spock thought it was hilarious.

Spock's eyebrow quirked, and his eyes glinted slightly. "Ta'al. This." He raised his hand with his middle two fingers separated.

"Ok," said Jim. He took one of his hands and used his other one to attempt to force it to cooperate. Jim was pleased to see that glint in Spock's eye grow more pronounced, so he didn't feel bad about mangling it as he raised his hand and said with a grin, "Live long and prosper, Spock."

"What is the human custom of saying goodbye?" Spock inquired.

"Uh, well," Jim began. Would Spock humor him? The idea made him nervous for some reason, but not in a bad way. "Usually, we just say, goodbye, see you soon, that we had a great time. Keep in touch. Usually, we hug too."

"Very well."

"What?"

"You have honored my tradition, it is only logical that I honor yours."

"…" Jim stared, thinking he hadn't heard right, but Spock just stared back expectantly. Jim approached him like he might a wild animal, like he might dart away at any second, but his friend did no such thing. Jim hesitantly put his hands on his shoulders, and ran them down his upper arms. Seeing that Spock accepted that gave him the confidence boost to go for it, and he did what he'd wanted to do for days: draw Spock in a tight, bone-crushing hug. Spock was stiff as a board, but he did move his hands so that they rested on Jim's lower back, hugging him back in a very reserved way.

Jim smiled privately, and then released Spock. "Do you still think penpals are illogical?" Jim asked.

"Vulcans do not engage in frivolous behavior. However, mutual intellectual exploration is not unheard of."

Hmmm. Jim didn't know what to make of that, but it sounded a little like permission. He shrugged inwardly. Vulcans. Maybe his dad could explain it to him. "Ok. Well, I hope to see you again sometime."

Spock put his hands behind his back. "Goodbye, Jim."

"Bye, Spock." Jim gave him one last smile and left the room. Amanda was out in the sitting area, giving his dad one last hug. She turned to him, and hugged him as well. "You're welcome back anytime," she said brightly. "Don't be a stranger!"

"Thanks. I liked being here."

"I'm glad to hear it," said Amanda. "Have a safe trip."

"We will," his dad promised. He put his hand on Jim's shoulder and gently led him out the door.

To their surprise, T'Pol and another severe looking Vulcan woman stood waiting by their shuttle for them.

Jim's dad raised his hand in the ta'al, and Jim, sensing they would not be amused by his fumbling attempts, made an awkward little wave. "T'Pol, T'Pau. I am honored," said Spock.

_OH._ Jim froze, unsure of how to act. T'Pol took in his slightly panicked expression and decided to intervene. "Mr. Kirk, I hope you decide to come back to Vulcan again one day. Thank you for your willingness to share your experiences with me."

Jim immediately felt less awkward; in fact, he glowed a bit at her treating him like an adult. "You're welcome. I hope to come back someday too."

T'Pau didn't say anything to him, just acknowledged him with a glance. "Selek. I wish to inform you that Romulan activity has been quiet according to latest intelligence."

"I am glad to hear it, and will render further assistance, should you ask for it."

"Live long and prosper, Selek, Mr. Kirk," she said.

"Live long and prosper," said Spock, with a nod to both of them. He put a hand on Jim's shoulder, signaling that he did not need to say or do anything further. With one last look at Vulcan, Jim followed him into the shuttle.

"Was that what T'Pau talked to you about when she summoned you before? Romulans?" Jim asked. If he ever spoke to Solkar again, he'd be sure to tell him.

"Affirmative," said Spock shortly, his tone clearly not inviting any more questions on that front. "Do not concern yourself."

Ok. "What are we going to do when we get home?"

"That, is entirely up to you," said his dad, a playful glint in his eyes.

Jim immediately thought of Gary and Ben. Young Spock had been great, but he was looking forward to having fun that didn't involve extensive use of his brain. "Can I go to an amusement park with Gary and Ben?"

His dad looked thoughtful. Well, he always did, but more than usual. Jim wondered what he was up to. "Of course," he finally said. "Perhaps in a few weeks."

Jim couldn't wait.

* * *

The next chapter is the epilogue and will be the last. However, I will post the first one-shot of part 3, "All Along: Family" at the same time. :) Stay tuned!


	15. Epilogue

A/N: Thank you to GabrielsDoubt, b. mars 312010, seacat03, and foxeeflame for reviewing!

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Epilogue

Jim gently placed the tattered Andorian paper book on his shelf with a sad, yet fond smile on his face. True to T'Pol's word, she'd had it sent to his house. He'd opened it just this morning. On the inside cover, in terrible handwriting that he could barely make out, appeared: "To Hoshi Sato, from Gen. Shran. Thank you for helping to save my daughter." He hadn't noticed that before, when Hoshi had originally showed him the book. He wished that she could have told him that story. Of course, now, he may never know.

"Jim, it is time for us to go," his dad called patiently from the doorway.

Jim turned around, his face splitting into a huge grin. His dad was wearing the shirt he'd made him for Father's Day, the blue one with "Best Dad Ever" painted on the front. He'd never forget the look on Spock's face when Jim had found it with the rest of the things shipped to him from Tarsus. He'd smiled, a full, rare grin, and then said, "Jim. I am honored!" That sure had made Jim glow, but this, this was even better.

He obediently followed him to their new hovercar. Spock had decided that, since he now found himself driving Jim and his friends to places, it was "only logical" to get a larger one to accommodate everyone. They picked up an excited Gary and Ben on their way to their destination: the amusement park!

However, before they arrived, Spock announced that he had a few more people to pick up at the spaceport. This was the first he'd mentioned anything like that, and Jim wondered what he was up to.

When Spock came back with Solkar, Stonn, and his two cronies in tow, Jim felt doubtful. What was going on? Would having them around spoil their fun? What was his dad thinking?

"Gary, Ben, Jim, this is Stonn, Solor, and Senek. Jim, you know Solkar. They are here for some "cultural studies." I have agreed to let them ride with us."

His dad's voice betrayed mischievous amusement, which only puzzled Jim further. He and his friends exchanged dubious glances, and then shrugged. The three Vulcan boys climbed in, their faces blank. The three humans soon figured they weren't going to make conversation, so they instead debated among themselves what rides they wanted to go on, with Solkar making occasional curious inquires about them. Sometimes Jim still felt like a great chasm existed between him and his friends. They had no idea what it was like to go through what he'd gone through. Still, times like this, he was able to connect with them again.

When they arrived, Spock bought them all unlimited tickets. On the way in, they ran into McCoy and Jocelyn. Jim brightened as he saw his friend, and drew him into a hug.

"Hey kiddo! We've been busy making wedding preparations, but we couldn't miss this!" he said to Jim.

"You are getting married?" asked Solkar.

"Yep," confirmed McCoy. "In a few months."

"Indeed?" The overly curious Vulcan appeared to fight a short internal battle. "I have never observed human matrimonial customs."

McCoy glanced at Jocelyn, who shrugged. "Well, if you wanna come. I can send you an invite. Vulcan Embassy, right?"

"That is correct," Solkar stated. "It is appreciated."

"Yeah, well. Why don't we go in?" suggested McCoy.

The three human boys rushed off to the first rollercoaster. Solkar looked like he wanted to run with them, but just barely restrained himself. The three young Vulcan boys followed, appearing dubious. "Go on," Spock urged them, suppressing a smile. He'd tried to think of a way to highlight human strengths, to give them more of a respect for them. Humans were far more adaptable than Vulcans, and he thought this might highlight that. Spock himself did not go on, opting to watch with McCoy and Jocelyn.

"Hey, old man," said McCoy, after everyone else had started the ride. "I was wondering. Will you be one of my groomsmen?"

Spock tore his gave from the tense gazes of the bullies and met McCoy's. "I would be honored, doctor."

"Good," said McCoy, and then laughed at the look on Solkar's face as the ride took him abruptly downhill. The Vulcan looked more confused than anything else. He had a feeling he would be asking lots of questions afterward.

At the end of the ride, the three humans practically bounced off, exhilarated. "Let's do another one!" cried Gary, and without further ado, the trio dashed off to the neighboring structure. Solkar got off next, and stood next to Spock. "I do not understand. In flight, the smoothness of the ride is highly valued. Yet, humans also enjoy this… erratic experience."

"Illogical," Spock agreed lightly.

"This requires more study," concluded Solkar, leaving to join the others at the next rollercoaster. Spock stared after him, an eyebrow slightly raised. If he didn't know better, he'd say the aide was enjoying himself.

A few minutes later, the three bullies finally came up to Spock, looking quite… green. More than usual.

"What did you think?" said Spock, barely hiding his amusement.

"I do not understand the point of this exercise," said Stonn.

"Then you will have to continue until you do," said Spock. He knew they would be too stubborn to admit weakness, and he was right. By the end of the day, the three young Vulcans looked positively sick, while the three humans were bouncing off the walls, almost literally. Solkar appeared no less confused than he'd been at the beginning, despite Jim's attempts to explain things to him.

"I will have to turn this into a long term study," Solkar stated.

"Well, if we go here again, we'll invite you," said Gary. He hadn't been around many Vulcans. They were rumored to be a bit too reserved for his taste, but at least this guy was trying.

"I do not understand your enjoyment of such an unpredictable experience," said Stonn to Gary. He hadn't talked to Jim at all, but occasionally he'd deign to address Gary. Jim didn't know why; Gary disliked them even more than Jim, if that was possible.

"We like it _because_ it's unpredictable and out of control. We just roll with it. It's when you can't relax and adapt that you get sick." Gary, in his usual, overly perceptive fashion, cut right down to it.

Stonn and his cronies exchanged glances. "Acknowledged," he stated, but left it at that.

It was now time to go home. They all went their separate ways, and too soon, Jim and Spock arrived back home. They went to Jim's room and sat on his bed. "I am pleased that you had a good time today," said Spock.

"Yeah. Thanks for taking us," Jim said. "I hope to go again sometime."

"Of course."

"Do you think they'll stop bullying Spock?" Jim asked after a brief, companionable silence.

"I believe they have gained a new respect for humans. If that is not enough, Solkar has agreed to conduct follow-up cultural studies with them and keep me apprised." Spock suspected that Solkar had mainly agreed so he could continue to talk to Spock, but he'd take it. "Are you ready for sleep? Do you need help?"

"No," said Jim. He was wiped. He wouldn't need a sleep suggestion. In fact, he hadn't for a while now. His nightmares had started to recede as well. "I'm good."

"Very well. Goodnight, Jim," Spock said, kissing his temple before leaving the room.

As Jim settled under the covers, he reflected on how much had changed in the past few months. He'd started out feeling uncertain and alone, then even more so when his mom had taken him off planet. He'd somehow survived a terrorist plot against an innocent colony. Then he'd gone to Vulcan and healed in more ways than he'd expected. He no longer felt alone. Granted, he still had no desire for solitary excursions, but Jim knew now, in the ways that counted, he was no longer on his own. Spock would be there for him. He'd proven it, beyond all of Jim's expectations. He still wasn't always sure how to act, or what Spock expected of him, but they would work it out. Things here would not come to an end, as he feared. It was only the beginning.

* * *

This story may be done, but this series isn't! I just posted the beginning of the third part, "All Along: Family." Hope to see you there!


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